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UC-NRLF 


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gigji 


GIFT  OF 
Harry  East  Miller 


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^p  ^bbie  f  ariuell  ^rotnn 


THE      CHRISTMAS      ANGEL.       Illustrated. 

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THE  CHRISTMAS  ANGEL 


•  •  •  •       »^ 


4/ 


.■4/    ; 


S4  ife*;^t;. 


t  ii  ^MS-» 


f\ '  V  i  l»  ii&^^i .  1      -  ■  fV    s# ,  -'3' —  , 


YOU 


HAJSG    IT   U.N    THE   TREE,   A.NGELliNA   ipageJd) 


THE  CHEISTMAS  ANGEL 


roue.. 

fSYCH. 


BY 


ABBIE  FARWELL   BROWN 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
REGINALD  BIRCH 


BOSTON   AND  NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

(C!)E  IM'azmiit  pvese  Cambribge 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,    I9IO,    BY    ABBIE    FARWELL    BROWN 
ALL    RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  October  iqio 
SECOND    IMPRESSION 


«r-\ 


GIFT  OF 


•  .•    f     c  •  •     >»•••, 


fouc. 

UBRARV 


CONTENTS 


I.   The  Play  Box 1   . 

II.   Jack-in-the-Box 8 

III.  The  Flanton  Dog     ......  12 

IV.  Noah's  Akk   .        .        .         »      . .        .        •  15 
V.    Miranda     ........  20 

VI.   The  Christmas  Angel  .         .         .         .        .  25 

VII.    Before  the  Fire 32 

VIII.   Jack  Again    .......  37 

IX.   The  Dog  Again 44 

X.   Noah  Again 49 

XI.   Miranda  Again 53 

XII.   The  Angel  Again 62 

XIII.  The  Christmas  Candle 68 

XIV.  Tom 73 

XV.   Christmas  Day 76 


iviSlSSO 


ILLUSTKATIONS 

You    HANG    IT    ON    THE    TREE,  ANGELINA  (page  26) 

Frontispiece 
She  LOOKED  up  and  down  the  street  .  .  .22 
Ping!  Out  sprang  the  Jack-in-the-box.         .         .         42 

Bob  Cooper  saves  the  Baby 46 

He  grasped  a  railing  to  steady  himself      .         .         64 
Mary  returns  the  doll 78 

From  drawings  by  Reginald  Birch 


THE   CHRISTMAS  ANGEL 

CHAPTER    I    .  . ;- : 

THE    PLAY    BOX  i  ^  !  ^  {  }  \;  ; 

T  the  sound  of  footsteps  along  the  hall 
Miss  Terry  looked  up  from  the  letter 
which    she  was  reading    for  the  sixth 
time.  "Of  course  I  would  not  see  him," 
pursing  her  lips  into  a  hard  line.    "  Cer- 
tainly not !  " 

A  bump  on  the  library  door,  as  from  an  oppos- 
ing knee,  did  duty  for  a  knock. 

"  Bring  the  box  in  here,  Norah,"  said  Miss  Terry, 
holding  open  the  door  for  her  servant,  who  was 
gasping  under  the  weight  of  a  packing-case.  "Set  it 
down  on  the  rug  by  the  fire-place.  I  am  going  to 
look  it  over  and  burn  up  the  rubbish  this  evening." 
She  glanced  once  more  at  the  letter  in  her  hand, 
then  with  a  sniff  tossed  it  upon  the  fire. 

"Yes'm,"  said  Norah,  as  she  set  down  the  box 
with  a  thump.  She  stooped  once  more  to  pick  up 
something  which  had  fallen  out  when  the  cover  was 


2  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

jarred  open.  It  was  a  pink  papier-mache  angel, 
such  as  are  often  hung  from  the  top  of  Christmas 
trees  as  a  crowning  symbol.  Norah  stood  holding 
it  between  thumb  and  finger,  staring  amazedly. 
Who  would  think  to  find  such  a  bit  of  frivolity  in 
tJae  hoiise  ;^l  "^iss  Terry  ! 

'.'  f Hes"  TOstreSvS  looked  up  from  the  fire,  where  the 
bit'  ot  writing  was  writhing  painfully,  and  caught 
the  expression  of  Norah' s  face. 

"What  have  you  there?"  she  asked,  frowning, 
as  she  took  the  object  into  her  own  hands.  "  The 
Christmas  Angel ! "  she  exclaimed  under  her  breath. 
"I  had  quite  forgotten  it."  Then  as  if  it  burned 
her  fingers  she  thrust  the  little  image  back  into  the 
box  and  turned  to  Norah  brusquely.  "There,  that's 
all.  You  can  go  now,  Norah,"  she  said. 

"  Yes  'm,"  answered  the  maid.  She  hesitated. 
"If  you  please 'm,  it's  Christmas  Eve." 

"  Well,  I  believe  so,"  snapped  Miss  Terry,  who 
seemed  to  be  in  a  particularly  bad  humor  this  even- 
ing. "What  do  you  want?" 

Norah  flushed ;  but  she  was  hardened  to  her  mis- 
tress's manner.  "  Only  to  ask  if  I  may  go  out  for 
a  little  while  to  see  the  decorations  and  hear  the 
singing." 

"  Decorations  ?   Singing  ?    Fiddlestick  !  "  retorted 


THE   PLAY   BOX  3 

Miss  Terry,  poker  in  hand.  "What  decorations? 
What  sing-ing  ?  " 

"  Why,  all  the  windows  along  the  street  are  full 
of  candles,"  answered  Norah  ;  "rows  of  candles  in 
every  house,  to  light  the  Christ  Child  on  his  way 
when  he  comes  through  the  city  to-night." 

"  Fiddlestick  !  "  again  snarled  her  mistress. 

"And  choir-boys  are  going  about  the  streets, 
they  say,  singing  carols  in  front  of  the  lighted 
houses,"  continued  Norah  enthusiastically.  "  It  must 
sound  so  pretty  !  " 

"  They  had  much  better  be  at  home  in  bed.  I 
believe  people  are  losing  their  minds !  " 

" Please 'm,  may  I  go?"  asked  Norah  again. 

Norah  had  no  puritanic  traditions  to  her  account. 
Moreover  she  was  young  and  warm  and  enthusias- 
tic. Sometimes  the  spell  of  Miss  Terry's  sombre 
house  threatened  her  to  the  point  of  desperation. 
It  was  so  this  Christmas  Eve ;  but  she  made  her  re- 
quest with  apparent  calmness. 

"  Yes,  go  along,"  assented  her  mistress  un- 
graciously. 

"  Thank  you,  'm,"  said  the  servant  demurely,  but 
with  a  brightening  of  her  blue  eyes.  And  presently 
the  area  door  banged  behind  her  quick-retreating 
footsteps. 


4  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

''  H'm  !  Did  n't  take  her  long  to  get  ready  !  " 
muttered  Miss  Terry,  giving  the  fire  a  vicious  poke. 
She  was  alone  in  the  house,  on  Christmas  Eve,  and 
not  a  man,  woman,  or  child  in  the  world  cared.  Well, 
it  was  what  she  wanted.  It  was  of  her  own  doing. 
If  she  had  wished  — 

She  sat  back  in  her  chair,  with  thin,  long  hands 
lying  along  the  arms  of  it,  gazing  into  the  fire.  A 
bit  of  paper  there  was  crumbling  into  ashes.  Alone 
on  Christmas  Eve !  Even  Norah  had  some  relation 
with  the  world  outside.  Was  there  not  a  stalwart 
officer  waiting  for  her  on  the  nearest  corner  ?  Even 
Norah  could  feel  a  simple  childish  pleasure  in  can- 
dles and  carols  and  merriment,  and  the  old,  old  su- 
perstition. 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  mused  Miss  Terry  scorn- 
fully. "What  is  our  Christmas,  anyway?  A  time  for 
shopkeepers  to  sell  and  for  foolish  folks  to  kill  them- 
selves in  buying.  Christmas  spirit?  No !  It  is  all  hum- 
bug,—  all  selfishness,  and  worry;  an  unwholesome 
season  of  unnatural  activities.  I  am  glad  I  am  out 
of  it.  I  am  glad  no  one  expects  anything  of  me,  — 
nor  I  of  any  one.  I  am  quite  independent;  blessedly 
independent  of  the  whole  foolish  business.  It  is  a 
good  time  to  begin  clearing  up  for  the  new  year. 
I  'm  glad  I  thought  of  it.    I  've  long  threatened  to 


THE    PLAY    BOX  S 

get  rid  of  the  stuff  that  has  been  accumulating  in 
that  corner  of  the  attic.  Now  I  will  begin." 

She  tugged  the  packing-case  an  inch  nearer  the 
fire.  It  was  like  Miss  Terry  to  insist  upon  that  nearer 
inch.  Then  she  raised  the  cover.  It  was  a  box  full 
of  children's  battered  toys,  old-fashioned  and  quaint; 
the  toys  in  vogue  thirty  —  forty  —  fifty  years  earlier, 
when  Miss  Terry  was  a  child.  She  gave  a  reminiscent 
sniff  as  she  threw  up  the  cover  and  saw  on  the 
under  side  of  it  a  big  label  of  pasteboard  unevenly 
lettered. 


TOM    T:PF~R,y%-/\''H., 


X 


"  Humph  !  "  she  snorted.  There  was  a  great  deal 
in  that  ''  humph."  It  meant :  Yes,  Tom's  name  had 
plenty  of  room,  while  poor  little  Angelina  had  to 
squeeze  in  as  well  as  she  could.  How  like  Tom  !  This 
accounted  for  everything,  even  to  his  not  being  in 
his  sister's  house  this  very  night.  How  unreasonable 
he  had  been  ! 


6  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

Miss  Terry  shrugged  impatiently.  Why  think  of 
Tom  to-night?  Years  ago  he  had  deliberately  cut 
himself  adrift  from  her  interests.  No  need  to  think 
of  him  now.  It  was  too  late  to  appease  her.  But  here 
were  all  these  toys  to  be  got  rid  of.  The  fire  was 
hungry  for  them.  Why  not  begin  ? 

Miss  Terry  stooped  to  poke  over  the  contents  of 
the  box  with  lean,  long  fingers.  In  one  corner  thrust 
up  a  doll's  arm ;  in  another,  an  animal's  tail  pointed 
heavenward.  She  caught  glimpses  of  glitter  and  tin- 
sel, wheels  and  fragments  of  unidentifiable  toys. 

"  What  rubbish  !  "  she  said.  "  Yes,  I  '11  burn  them 
all.  They  are  good  for  nothing  else.  I  suppose  some 
folks  would  try  to  give  them  away,  and  bore  a  lot  of 
people  to  death.  They  seem  to  think  they  are  saving- 
something,  that  way.  Nonsense!  I  know  better.  It  is 
all  foolishness,  this  craze  for  giving.  Most  things  are 
better  destroyed  as  soon  as  you  are  done  with  them. 
Why,  nobody  wants  such  truck  as  this.  Now,  could 
any  child  ever  have  cared  for  so  silly  a  thing?"  She 
pulled  out  a  faded  jumping-jack,  and  regarded  it 
scornfully.  "Idiotic!  Such  toys  are  demoralizing  for 
children  —  weaken  their  minds.  It  is  a  shame  to 
think  how  every  one  seems  bound  to  spoil  children, 
especially  at  Christmas  time.  Well,  no  one  can  say 
that  I  have  added  to  the  shameful  waste." 


THE   PLAY    BOX  7 

Miss  Terry  tossed  the  poor  jumping-jack  on  the  fire, 
and  eyed  his  last  contortions  with  grim  satisfaction. 

But  as  she  watched,  a  quaint  idea  came  to  her. 
She  was  famous  for  eccentric  ideas. 

"  I  will  try  an  experiment,"  she  said.  "  I  will  prove 
once  for  all  my  point  about  the  'Christmas  spirit.'  I 
will  drop  some  of  these  old  toys  out  on  the  sidewalk 
and  see  what  happens.   It  may  be  interesting." 


CHAPTER  II 


JACK-IN-THE-BOX 


ISS  TERRY  rose  and  crossed  two  rooms 
to  the  front  window,  looking  out  upon 
the  street.  A  flare  of  light  almost  blind- 
ed her  eyes.  Every  window  opposite  her 
along  the  block,  as  far  as  she  could  see,  was  illumi- 
nated Avith  a  row  of  lighted  candles  across  the  sash. 
The  soft,  unusual  glow  threw  into  relief  the  pretty 
curtains  and  wreaths  of  green,  and  gave  glimpses  of 
cosy  interiors  and  flitting  happy  figures. 

"What  a  waste  of  candles  !  "  scolded  Miss  Terry. 
"  Folks  are  growing  terribly  extravagant." 

The  street  was  white  with  snow  which  had  fallen 
a  few  hours  earlier,  piled  in  drifts  along  the  curb  of 
the  little-traveled  terrace.  But  the  sidewalks  were 
neatly  shoveled  and  swept  clean,  as  became  the  em- 
inently respectable  part  of  the  city  where  Miss  Terry 
lived.  A  long  flight  of  ste])s,  with  iron  railing  at  the 
side,  led  down  from  the  front  door,  upon  which  a  sil- 
ver plate  had  for  generations  in  decorous  flourishes 
announced  the  name  of  Terry. 


JACK-IN-THE-BOX  9 

Miss  Terry  returned  to  the  play  box  and  drew 
out  between  thumb  and  finger  the  topmost  toy. 
It  happened  to  be  a  wooden  box,  with  a  wire  hasp 
for  fastening  the  cover.  Half  unconsciously  she 
pressed  the  spring,  and  a  hideous  Jack-in-the-box 
sprang  out  to  confront  her  with  a  squeak,  a  leering 
smile,  and  a  red  nose.  Miss  Terry  eyed  him  with 
disfavor. 

"I  always  did  hate  that  thing,"  she  said.  ''Tom 
was  continually  frightening  me  with  it,  I  remember." 
As  if  to  be  rid  of  unwelcome  memories  she  shut  her 
mouth  tight,  even  as  she  shut  Jack  back  into  his  box, 
snapping  the  spring  into  place.  ^'  This  will  do  to  be- 
gin with,"  she  thought.  She  crossed  to  the  window, 
which  she  opened  quickly,  and  tossed  out  the  box, 
so  that  it  fell  squarely  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk. 
Then  closing  the  window  and  turning  down  the 
lights  in  the  room  behind  her.  Miss  Terry  hid  in  the 
folds  of  the  curtain  and  watched  to  see  what  would 
happen  to  Jack. 

The  street  was  quiet.  Few  persons  passed  on 
either  side.  At  last  she  spied  two  little  ragamuffins 
approaching.  They  seemed  to  be  Jewish  lads  of  the 
newsboy  class,  and  they  eyed  the  display  of  candles 
appraisingly.  The  smaller  boy  first  caught  sight  of 
the  box  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk. 


10  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

"  Hello  !  Wot 's  dis  ?  "  he  grunted,  making  a 
dash  upon  it. 

"Gee!  Wot's  up?"  responded  the  other,  who 
was  instantly  at  his  elbow. 

"  Gwan  !  Lemme  look  at  it." 

The  smaller  boy  drew  away  and  pressed  the  spring 
of  the  box  eagerly.  Ping  !  Out  popped  the  Jack  into 
his  astonished  face ;  whereupon  he  set  up  a  guffaw. 

"  Give  it  here  ! "  commanded  the  bigger  boy. 

"  Naw  !  You  let  it  alone  !  It 's  mine  !  "  asserted 
the  other,  edging  away  along  the  curbstone.  "  I  saw 
it  first.  You  can't  have  it." 

"  Give  it  here.  I  saw  it  first  myself.  Hand  it  over, 
or  I  '11  smash  you  ! " 

The  bigger  boy  advanced  threateningly. 

"  I  won't  !  "  the  other  whimpered,  clasping  the 
box  tightly  under  his  jacket. 

He  started  to  run,  but  the  bigger  fellow  was  too 
quick  for  him.  He  pounced  across  the  sidewalk,  and 
soon  the  twain  were  struggling  in  the  snowdrift, 
pummeling  one  another  with  might  and  main. 

"  I  told  you  so  !  "  commented  Miss  Terry  from 
behind  the  curtain.  "  Here  's  the  first  show  of  the 
beautiful  Christmas  spirit  that  is  supposed  to  be 
abroad.  Look  at  the  little  beasts  fighting  over  some- 
thing that  neither  of  them  really  wants  !  " 


JACK-IN-THE-BOX  11 

Just  then  Miss  Terry  spied  a  blue-coated  figure 
leisurely  approaching.  At  the  same  moment  an  in- 
stinct seemed  to  warn  the  struggling  urchins. 

"  Cop !  "  said  a  muffled  voice  from  the  pile 
of  arms  and  legs,  and  in  an  instant  two  black 
shadows  were  flitting  down  the  street ;  but  not  be- 
fore the  bigger  boy  had  wrenched  the  box  from  the 
pocket  of  the  little  chap. 

"  So  that  is  the  end  of  experiment  number  one," 
quoth  Miss  Terry,  smiling  grimly.  ''  It  happened 
just  about  as  I  expected.  They  will  be  fighting  again 
as  soon  as  they  are  out  of  sight.  They  are  Jews ; 
but  that  does  n't  make  any  difference  about  the 
Christmas  spirit.  Now  let 's  see  what  becomes  of 
the  next  experiment." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    FLANTON    DOG 

I  HE  returned  to  the  play  box  by  the  fire, 
and  rummaged  for  a  few  minutes  among 
the  tangled  toys.  Then  with  something 
like  a  chuckle  she  drew  out  a  soft,  pale 
creature  with  four  wobbly  legs. 

"  The  Flanton  Dog  !  "  she  said.  "  Well,  I  vow  !  I 
had  forgotten  all  about  him.  It  was  Tom  who  coined 
the  name  for  him  because  he  was  made  of  Canton 
flannel." 

She  stood  the  thing  up  on  the  table  as  well  as  his 
weak  legs  would  allow,  and  inspected  him  critically. 
He  certainly  was  a  forlorn  specimen.  One  of  the 
black  beads  which  had  served  him  for  eyes  was  gone. 
His  ears,  w^hich  had  originally  stood  up  saucily  on 
his  head,  now  drooped  in  Hmp  dejection.  One  of 
them  was  a  mere  shapeless  rag  hanging  by  a  thread. 
He  was  dirty  and  discolored,  and  his  tail  was  gone. 
But  still  he  smiled  with  his  red-thread  mouth  and 
seemed  trying  to  make  the  best  of  things. 

"  What  a  nightmare ! "  said  Miss  Terry  contempt- 


THE   FL ANTON    DOG  13 

uously.  "  I  know  there  is  n't  a  child  in  the  city  who 
wants  such  a  looking  tiling.  Why,  even  the  Animal 
Rescue  folks  would  give  the  boys  a  ^fiee  shot'  at  that. 
This  isn't  going  to  bring  out  any  Christmas  spirit/' 
she  sneered.  "I  will  try  it  and  see." 

Once  more  she  lifted  the  window  and  tossed  the 
dog  to  the  sidewalk.  He  rolled  upon  his  back  and  lay 
pathetically  with  crooked  legs  yearning  upward,  still 
smiUng.  Hardly  had  Miss  Terry  time  to  conceal  her- 
self behind  the  curtain  when  she  saw  a  figure  ap- 
proaching, airily  waving  a  stick. 

"  No  rao'amuffin  this  time,"  she  said.  "  Hello !  It 
is  that  good-for-nothing  young  Cooper  fellow  from 
the  next  block.  They  say  he  is  a  millionaire.  Well, 
he  is  n't  even  going  to  see  the  Flanton  Dog." 

The  young  man  came  swinging  along,  debonairly ; 
he  was  whistling  under  his  breath.  He  was  a  dapper 
figure  in  a  long  coat  and  a  silk  hat,  under  which  the 
candles  lighted  a  rather  silly  face.  When  he  reached 
the  spot  in  the  sidewalk  where  the  Flanton  Dog  lay, 
he  paused  a  moment  looking  down.  Then  he  poked 
the  object  wdth  his  stick.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
street  a  mother  and  her  little  boy  were  passing  at  the 
time.  The  child's  eyes  caught  sight  of  the  dog  on 
the  sidewalk,  and  he  hung  back,  watching  to  see 
what    the    young    man    would    do    to  it.    But    his 


14  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

mother  drew  him  after  her.  Just  then  an  auto- 
mobile came  panting  through  the  snow.  With  a  quick 
movement  Cooper  picked  up  the  dog  on  the  end  of 
his  stick  and  tossed  it  into  the  street,  under  the 
wheels  of  the  machine.  The  baby  across  the  street 
uttered  a  howl  of  anguish  at  the  sight.  Miss  Terry 
herself  was  surprised  to  feel  a  pang  shoot  through 
her  as  the  car  passed  over  the  queer  old  toy.  She 
retreated  from  the  window  quickly. 

"  Well,  that 's  the  end  of  Flanton,"  she  said  with 
half  a  sigh.  "I  knew  that  fellow  was  a  brute.  I 
might  have  expected  something  like  that.  But  it 
looked  so  —  so—"  She  hesitated  for  a  word,  and 
did  not  finish  her  sentence,  but  bit  her  lip  and 
sniffed  cynically. 


CHAPTER   IV 


THE    NOAh's    ark 


'OW,  what  comes  next?"    Miss   Terry 

rummaged  in  the  box  until  her  fingers 

met   something  odd-shapedj  long,  and 

smooth-sided.    With  some  difficulty  she 

drew  out  the  object,  for  it  was  of  good  size. 

"  H  m !  The  old  Noah's  ark,"  she  said.  "  I  wonder 
if  all  the  animals  are  in  there." 

She  lifted  the  cover,  and  turned  out  into  her  lap 
the  long-imprisoned  animals  and  their  round-bodied 
chief.  Mrs.  Noah  and  her  sona  had  long  since  disap- 
peared. But  the  ark-builder,  hatless  and  one-armed, 
still  presided  over  a  menagerie  of  sorry  beasts. 
Scarcely  one  could  boast  of  being  a  quadruped.  To 
few  of  them  the  years  had  spared  a  tail.  From  their 
close  resemblance  in  their  misery,  it  was  not  hard  to 
believe  in  the  kinship  of  all  animal  life.  She  took 
them  up  and  examined  them  curiously  one  by  one. 
Finally  she  selected  a  shapeless  slate-colored  block 
from  the  mass.  "  This  was  the  elephant,"  she  mused. 
"  I  remember  when  Tom  stepped  on  him  and  smashed 


16  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

his  trunk.  '  I  guess  I  'm  going  to  be  an  expressman 
when  I  grow  up,'  he  said,  looking  sorry.  Tom  was 
always  full  of  his  jokes.  Now  I  '11  try  this  and  see 
what  happens  to  the  ark  on  its  last  voyage." 

Just  then  there  was  a  noise  outside.  An  automo- 
bile honked  past,  and  Miss  Terry  shuddered,  recalling 
the  pathetic  end  of  the  Flanton  Dog,  which  had 
given  her  quite  a  turn. 

^'1  hate  those  horrid  machines!"  she  exclaimed. 
"They  seem  like  Juggernaut.  I'd  like  to  forbid 
their  going  through  this  street." 

She  crowded  the  elephant  with  Noah  and  the 
rest  of  his  charge  back  into  the  ark  and  closed  the 
lid.  "I  can't  throw  this  out  of  the  window,"  she  re- 
flected. "  They  would  spill.  I  must  take  it  out  on 
the  sidewalk.  Land  !  The  lire  's  going  out !  That  girl 
does  n't  know  how  to  build  fires  so  they  will  keep." 

She  laid  the  Noah's  ark  on  the  table,  and  going 
to  the  closet  tugged  out  several  big  logs,  which  she 
arranged  geometrically.  About  laying  fires,  as  about 
most  other  things,  Miss  Terry  had  her  own  positive 
theories.  Taking  the  bellows  in  hand  she  blew  furi- 
ously, and  was  presently  rewarded  with  a  brisk  blaze. 
She  smiled  with  satisfaction,  and  trotted  upstairs  to 
find  lier  red  knit  shawl.  With  this  about  lier  shoul- 
ders she  was  prepared  to  brave  the  December  frost. 


THE   NOAH'S   ARK  17 

Down  the  steps  she  went,  and  deposited  the  ark  dis- 
creetly at  their  foot ;  then  returned  to  take  up  her 
position  behind  the  curtains. 

There  were  a  good  many  people  passing,  but  they 
seemed  too  preoccupied  to  glance  down  at  the  side- 
walk. They  were  nearly  all  hurrying  in  one  direc- 
tion. Some  were  running  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

*^  They  are  in  a  great  hurry,"  sniffed  Miss  Terry 
disdainfully.  "  One  would  think  they  had  something 
really  important  on  hand.  I  suppose  they  are  going 
to  hear  the  sing^ino^.   Fiddlestick  !  " 

A  man  hastened  by  under  the  window  ;  a  woman  ; 
two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  running  and  gesticu- 
lating eagerly.  None  of  them  noticed  the  Noah's 
ark  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 

Miss  Terry  began  to  grow^  impatient.  "Are  they 
all  blind?"  she  fretted.  "What  is  the  matter  with 
them?  I  wish  somebody  would  find  the  thing.  I 
am  tired  of  seeing  it  lying  there." 

She  tapped  the  floor  impatiently  with  her  slipper. 
Just  then  a  woman  approached.  She  was  dressed  in 
the  most  uncompromising  of  mourning,  and  she 
walked  slowly,  with  bent  head,  never  glancing  at 
the  lighted  windows  on  either  side. 

"  She  will  see  it,"  commented  Miss  Terry.  And 
sure  enough,  she  did.    She  stopped  at  the  doorstep. 


18  THE  CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

drew  her  skirts  aside,  and  bent  over  to  look  at  the 
strange-shaped  box  at  her  feet.  Finally  she  lifted  it 
But  immediately  she  shivered  and  acted  so  strangely 
that  Miss  Terry  thought  she  Avas  about  to  break  the 
toy  in  pieces  on  the  steps  or  throw  it  into  the  street. 
Evidently  she  detested  the  sight  of  it. 

Just  then  up  came  a  second  woman  with  two  small 
boys  hanging  at  her  skirts.  They  were  ragged  and 
sick-looking.  There  was  something  about  the  ex- 
pression of  even  the  tiny  knot  of  hair  at  the  back 
of  the  woman's  head  which  told  of  anxious  poverty. 
With  envious  curiosity  she  hurried  up  to  see  what  a 
luckier  mortal  had  found,  crowding  to  look  over  her 
shoulder.  The  woman  in  black  drew  haughtily  away 
and  clutched  the  Noah's  ark  with  a  gesture  of 
proprietorship. 

"  Go  away  !  This  is  my  affair."  Miss  Terry  read 
her  expression  and  sniffed.  "  There  is  the  Christmas 
spirit  coming  out  again,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Look 
at  her  face !  " 

The  black-gowned  woman  prepared  to  move  on 
with  the  toy  under  her  arm.  But  the  second  woman 
caught  hold  of  her  skirt  and  began  to  speak  ear- 
nestly. She  pointed  to  the  Noah's  ark,  then  to  her  two 
children.  Her  eyes  were  beseecliing.  The  little  boys 
crowded  forward  eagerly.    But  some  wicked  spirit 


THE   NOAH'S  ARK  19 

seemed  to  have  seized  the  finder  of  the  ark.  Angrily 
she  shook  off  the  hand  of  the  other  woman,  and 
clutching  the  box  yet  more  firmly  under  her  arm,  she 
hurried  away.  Once,  twice,  she  turned  and  shook 
her  head  at  the  ragged  woman  who  followed  her. 
Then,  with  a  savage  gesture  at  the  two  children,  she 
disappeared  beyond  Miss  Terry's  straining  eyes.  The 
poor  woman  and  her  boys  followed  forlornly  at  a 
distance. 

"  They  really  wanted  it,  that  old  Noah's  ark  !  " 
exclaimed  Miss  Terry  in  amazement.  "  I  can  scarcely 
believe  it.  But  why  did  that  other  creature  keep  the 
thing  ?  I  see  !  Only  because  she  found  they  cared  for 
it.  Well,  that  is  a  happy  spirit  for  Christmas  time, 
I  should  say  !  Humph  !  I  did  not  expect  to  find  any- 
thing quite  so  mean  as  that !'' 


CHAPTER   V 

MIRANDA 

'ISS  TERRY  returned  to  the  fireside, 
fumbled  in  the  box,  and  drew  out  a  doll. 
She  was  an  ugly,  old-fashioned  doll, 
with  bruised  waxen  face  of  no  particu- 
Her  mop  of  flaxen  hair  was  straggling 
and  uneven,  much  the  worse  for  the  attention  of 
generations  of  moths.  She  wore  a  faded  green  silk 
dress  in  the  style  of  Lincoln's  day,  and  a  primitive 
bonnet,  evidently  made  by  childish  hands.  She  was 
a  strange,  dead-looking  figure,  with  pale  eyelids 
closed,  as  Miss  Terry  dragged  her  from  the  box. 
But  when  she  was  set  upright  the  lids  snapped  open 
and  a  pair  of  bright  blue  eyes  looked  straight  into 
those  of  Miss  Terry.  It  was  so  sudden  that  the 
lady  nearly  gasped. 

^^  Miranda  !"  she  exclaimed.  ^'It  is  old  Miranda! 
I  have  not  thought  of  her  for  years."  She  held  the 
doll  at  arm's  length,  gazing  fixedly  at  her  for  some 
minuteso 

"  I  cannot  burn  her,"  she  muttered  at  last.    "  It 


MIRANDA  21 

would  seem  almost  like  murder.  I  don't  like  to 
throw  her  away,  but  I  have  vowed  to  get  rid  o£ 
these  things  to-night.  And  I'll  do  it,  anyway.  Yes, 
I  '11  make  an  experiment  of  her.  I  wonder  what  sort 
of  trouble  she  will  cause." 

Not  even  Miss  Terry  could  think  of  seeing  old 
Miranda  lying  exposed  to  the  winter  night.  She 
found  a  piece  of  paper,  rolled  up  the  doll  in  a  neat 
package,  and  tied  it  with  red  string.  It  was,  to  look 
upon,  entirely  a  tempting  package.  Once  more  she 
stole  down  the  steps  and  hesitated  where  to  leave 
Miranda  :  not  on  the  sidewalk,  —  for  some  reason 
that  seemed  impossible.  But  near  the  foot  of  the 
flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  front  door  she  depos- 
ited the  doll.  The  white  package  shone  out  plainly 
in  the  illuminated  street.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
it  would  be  readily  seen. 

With  a  quite  unexplainable  interest  Miss  Terry 
watched  to  see  what  would  happen  to  Miranda. 
She  waited  for  some  time.  The  street  seemed  de- 
serted. Miss  Terry  caught  the  faint  sound  of  sing- 
ing. The  choristers  were  passing  through  a  neigh- 
boring street,  and  doubtless  all  wayfarers  within 
hearing  of  their  voices  were  following  in  their  wake. 

She  was  thoroughly  interested  in  her  grim  joke, 
but  she  was  becoming  impatient.  Were  there  to  be 


22  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

no  more  passers  ?  Must  the  doll  stay  there  un- 
reclaimed until  morning?  Presently  she  became 
aware  of  a  child's  figure  drawing  near.  It  was  a 
little  girl  of  about  ten,  very  shabbily  dressed,  with 
tangled  yellow  curls  hanging  over  her  shoulders. 
There  was  something  familiar  about  her  appearance, 
Miss  Terry  could  not  say  wdiat  it  was.  She  came 
hurrying  along  the  sidewalk  with  a  preoccupied 
air,  and  seemed  about  to  pass  the  steps  without 
seeing  the  package  lying  there.  But  just  as  she 
was  opposite  the  window^,  her  eye  caught  the  gleam 
of  the  white  paper.  She  paused.  She  looked  at  it 
eagerly ;  it  was  such  a  tempting  package,  both  as 
to  its  size  and  shape!  She  went  closer  and  bent 
down  to  examine  it.  She  took  it  into  her  bare  little 
hands  and  seemed  to  squeeze  it  gently.  There  is 
no  mistaking  the  contours  of  a  doll,  however  well  it 
may  be  enveloped  in  paper  wrappings.  The  child's 
eyes  grew  more  and  more  eager.  She  glanced  behind 
her  furtively ;  she  looked  up  and  down  the  street. 
Then  with  a  sudden  intuition  she  looked  straight 
ahead,  up  the  flight  of  steps. 

Miss  Terry  read  her  mind  accurately.  She  was 
thinking  that  probably  the  doll  belonged  in  that 
house ;  some  one  must  have  dropped  the  package 
while  going  out  or  in.  Would  she  ring  the  bell  and 


SHE  LOOKED   UP  AND  DOWN   THE   STREET 


MIRANDA  23 

return  it  ?  Miss  Terry  had  not  thought  of  that  pos- 
sibility. But  she  shook  her  head  and  her  lip  curled. 
"  Return  it  ?  Of  course  not !  Ragged  children  do 
not  usually  return  promising  packages  which  they 
have  found,  —  even  on  Christmas  Eve.  Look  now  ! " 

Once  more  the  child  glanced  stealthily  behind 
her,  up  and  down  the  street.  Once  more  she  looked 
up  at  the  dark  house  before  her,  the  only  black  spot 
in  a  wreath  of  brilliancy.  She  did  not  see  the  face 
peering  at  her  through  the  curtains,  a  face  which 
scanned  her  own  half  wistfully.  What  was  to  be- 
come of  Miranda  ?  The  little  girl  thrust  the  pack- 
age under  her  ragged  coat  and  ran  away  down  the 
street  as  fast  as  her  legs  could  take  her. 

"  A  thief  !  "  cried  Miss  Terry.  "That  is  the  cli- 
max. I  have  detected  a  child  taking  what  she  knew 
did  not  belong  to  her,  on  Christmas  Eve  1  Where 
are  all  their  Sunday  School  lessons  and  their  social 
improvement  classes?  I  knew  it !  This  Christmas 
spirit  that  one  hears  so  much  about  is  nothing  but 
an  empty  sham.  I  have  proved  it  to  my  satisfaction 
to-night.  I  will  burn  the  rest  of  these  toys,  every 
one  of  them,  and  then  go  to  bed.  It  is  too  disgust- 
ing! She  was  a  nice-looking  child,  too.  Poor  old 
Miranda  ! " 

With   something   like  a  sigh    Miss  Terry  strode 


24  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

back  to  the  fire,  where  the  play  box  stood  gaping. 
She  had  made  but  a  small  inroad  upon  its  heaped- 
up  treasures.  She  threw  herself  listlessly  into  the 
chair  and  began  to  pull  over  the  things.  Broken 
games  and  animals,  dolls'  dresses  painfully  tailored 
by  unskilled  fingers,  disjointed  members, — sorry 
relics  of  past  pleasures,  —  one  by  one  Miss  Terry 
seized  them  between  disdainful  thumb  and  finger 
and  tossed  them  into  the  fire.  Her  face  showed  not 
a  qualm  at  parting  with  these  childhood  treasures ; 
only  the  stern  sense  of  a  good  housekeeper's  duty 
fulfilled.  With  queer  contortions  the  bits  writhed 
on  the  coals,  and  finally  flared  into  dissolution,  van- 
ishing up  chimney  in  a  shower  of  sparks  to  the 
heaven  of  spent  toys. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    CHRISTMAS     ANGEL 

LMOST  at  the  bottom  of  the  box  Miss 
Terry's  fingers  closed  about  a  small  ob- 
ject. Once  more  she  drew  out  the  papier- 
mache  Ansrel  which  had  so  excited  the 
wonder  of  Norah  when  once  before  that  evening  it 
had  come  to  light. 

Miss  Terry  held  it  up  and  looked  at  it  with  the 
same  expression  on  her  face,  half  tender,  half  con- 
temptuous. "  The  Christmas  Angel ! "  she  murmured 
involuntarily,  as  she  had  done  before.  And  again 
there  flashed  through  her  mind  a  vivid  picture. 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  fifty  years  earlier. 
She  and  her  brother  Tom  were  trimming  the  Christ- 
mas tree  in  this  very  library.  She  saw  Tom,  in  a 
white  pique  suit  with  short  socks  that  were  always 
slipping  down  his  fat  legs.  She  saw  herself  in  a  white 
dress  and  blue  ribbons,  pouting  in  a  corner.  They 
had  been  quarreling  about  the  Christmas  tree,  dis- 
puting as  to  which  of  them  should  light  the  first 
candle  when  the  time  arrived.    Then  their  mother 


26  THE   CHRISTMAS    ANGEL 

came  to  them  smiling,  a  sweet-faced  lady  who 
seemed  not  to  notice  the  red  faces  and  the  tears. 
She  put  something  into  Tom's  hand  saying,  "This  is 
the  Christmas  Angel  of  peace  and  good-will.  Hang 
it  on  the  tree,  children,  so  that  it  may  shed  a  bless- 
ing on  all  who  come  here  to  give  and  to  receive." 

How  lovely  and  pink  it  looked  in  Tom's  hand  ! 
Little  Angelina  had  thought  it  the  most  beautiful 
thing  she  had  ever  seen,  —  and  holy,  too,  as  if  it  had 
some  blessed  charm.  Fiddlestick !  What  queer  fancies 
children  have  !  Miss  Terry  remembered  how  a  strange 
thrill  had  crept  through  Angelina  as  she  gazed  at  it. 
Then  she  and  Tom  looked  at  each  other  and  were 
ashamed  of  their  quarrel.  Suddenly  Tom  held  out 
the  Angel  to  his  sister.  "  You  hang  it  on  the  tree, 
Angelina,"  he  said  magnanimously.  "  I  know  you 
want  to.'^ 

But  she  —  little  fool !  — she  too  had  a  fit  of  gener- 
osity. 

"  No,  you  hang  it,  Tom.  You  're  taller,"  she  said. 

"  I  '11  hang  it  at  the  very  top  of  the  tree  !  "  he  re- 
plied, nothing  loath.  Eagerly  he  mounted  the  step- 
ladder,  while  Angelina  watched  him  enviously,  think- 
ing how  clumsy  he  was,  and  how  much  better  she 
could  do  ico 

How  funny  and  fat  Tom  had  looked  on  top  of  the 


THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL  27 

ladder,  reaching  as  high  as  he  dared  !  The  ladder 
began  to  wobble,  and  he  balanced  precariously,  while 
Angelina  clutched  at  his  fat  ankles  with  a  scream 
of  fright.    But  Tom  said  :  — 

"  Ow  !  Angelina,  let  go  my  ankles  !  You  hurt ! 
Now  don't  scream.  I  shan't  fall.  Don't  you  know 
that  this  is  the  Christmas  Angel,  and  he  will  never 
let  me  get  hurt  on  Christmas  Eve  ?  " 

Swaying  wildly  on  one  toe  Tom  had  clutched  at 
the  air,  at  the  tree  itself,  —  anywhere  for  support. 
Yet,  almost  as  if  by  a  miracle,  he  did  not  fall.  And 
the  Christmas  Angel  was  looking  down  from  the 
very  top  of  the  tree. 

Miss  Terry  laid  the  little  pink  figure  in  her  lap 
and  mused.  "Mother  was  wise!"  she  sighed.  "She 
knew  how  to  settle  our  quarrels  in  those  days.  Per- 
haps if  she  had  still  been  here  things  would  have 
gone  differently.  Tom  might  not  have  left  me  for 
good.  For  good.''  She  emphasized  the  words  with  a 
nod  as  if  arguing  against  something. 

Again  she  took  up  the  Christmas  Angel  and 
looked  earnestly  at  it.  Could  it  be  that  tears  were 
glistening  in  her  eyes  ?  Certainly  not !  With  a 
sudden  sniff  and  jerk  of  the  shoulders  she  leaned 
forw^ard,  holding  the  Angel  towards  the  fire.  This 
should  follow  the  other  useless  toys.  But  something 


28  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

seemed  to  stay  her  hand.  She  drew  back,  hesitated, 
then  rose  to  her  feet. 

"I  can't  burn  it,"  she  said.  "  It's  no  use,  I  can't 
burn  it.  But  I  don't  want  to  see  the  thing  around. 
I  will  put  this  out  on  the  sidewalk,  too.  Possibly  this 
may  be  different  and  do  some  good  to  somebody." 

She  wrapped  the  shawl  about  her  shoulders  and 
once  more  ran  down  the  steps.  She  left  the  Angel 
face  upward  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk,  and  re- 
treated quickly  to  the  house.  As  she  opened  the  door 
to  enter,  she  caught  the  distant  chorus  of  fresh  young 
voices  singing  in  a  neighboring  square  :  — 

"Angels  from  the  realms  of  glory, 
Wing  your  flight  o'er  all  the  earth." 

When  she  took  her  place  behind  the  curtain  she 
was  trembling  a  little,  she  could  not  guess  why.  But 
now  she  watched  wdth  renewed  eagerness.  What  was 
to  be  the  fate  of  the  Christmas  Angel  ?  Would  he 
fall  into  the  right  hands  and  be  hung  upon  some 
Christmas  tree  ere  morning?  Would  he  — 

Miss  Terry  held  her  breath.  A  man  was  stagger- 
ing along  the  street  toward  her.  He  whistled  noisily 
a  vulgar  song,  as  he  reeled  from  curb  to  railing, 
threatening  to  fall  at  every  step.  A  drunken  man  on 
Christmas  Eve  !  Miss  Terry  felt  a  great  loathing  for 


THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL  29 

him.  He  was  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  now.  He  was 
close  upon  the  Angel.  Would  he  see  it,  or  would  he 
tread  upon  it  in  his  disgusting  bHndness  ? 

Yes  —  no  !  He  saw  the  little  pink  image  lying  on 
the  bricks,  and  with  a  lurch  forward  bent  to  examine 
it.  Miss  Terry  flattened  her  nose  against  the  pane 
eagerly.  She  expected  to  see  him  fall  upon  the  Angel 
bodily.  But  no ;  he  righted  himself  with  a  whoop 
of  drunken  mirth. 

"Angel!"  she  heard  him  croak  with  maudlin 
accent.  "  Pink  Angel,  begorrah  !  What  doin'  'ere, 
eh  ?  Whoop  !  Go  back  to  sky.  Angel  1  "  and  lifting 
a  brutal  foot  he  kicked  the  image  into  the  street- 
Then  with  a  shriek  of  laughter  he  staggered  away 
out  of  sight. 

Miss  Terry  found  herself  trembhng  with  indigna- 
tion. The  idea  !  He  had  kicked  the  Christmas  An- 
gel, —  the  very  Angel  that  Tom  had  hung  on  their 
tree !  It  was  sacrilege,  or  at  least  —  Fiddlestick !  Miss 
Terry's  mind  was  growing  confused.  She  had  a  sud- 
den impulse  to  rescue  the  toy  from  being  trampled 
into  filthiness.  The  fire  was  better  than  that. 

She  hurried  down  the  steps  into  the  street,  for- 
getting her  shawl.  She  sought  in  the  snow  and 
snatched  the  pink  morsel  to  safety.  Straight  to  the 
fire  she  carried  it,  and  once   more  held  it  to  the 


30  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

flames.  But  again  she  found  it  impossible  to  burn 
the  thing.  Once,  twice,  she  tried.  But  each  time 
something  seemed  to  clutch  back  her  wrist.  At  last 
she  shrugged  impatiently  and  laid  the  Angel  on  the 
mantelpiece  beside  the  square  old  marble  clock,  which 
marked  the  hour  of  half -past  eight. 

''  Well,  I  won't  burn  it  to-night,"  she  reflected. 
"Somehow,  I  can't  do  it  just  now.  I  don't  see  what 
has  got  into  me !  But  to-morrow  I  will.  Yes,  to- 
morrow I  will." 

She  sat  down  in  the  armchair  and  fumbled  in  the 
old  play  box  for  the  remaining  scraps.  There  were 
but  a  few  meaningless  bits  of  ribbon  and  gauze, 
with  the  end  of  a  Christmas  candle,  the  survivor  of 
some  past  festival,  burned  on  some  tree  in  the  past. 
All  these  but  the  last  she  tossed  into  the  fire^  where 
they  made  a  final  protesting  blaze.  The  candle-end 
fell  to  the  floor  unnoticed. 

"  There !  That  is  the  last  of  the  stuff,"  she  ex- 
claimed with  grim  satisfaction,  shaking  the  dust  from 
her  black  silk  skirt.  ''It  is  all  gone  now,  thank 
Heaven,  and  I  can  go  to  bed  in  peace.  No,  I  for- 
got Norah.  I  suppose  I  must  sit  up  and  wait  for 
her.  Bother  the  girl  I  She  ought  to  be  in  by  now. 
What  can  she  find  to  amuse  her  all  this  time? 
Christmas  Eve  !    Fiddlestick  !    But  I  have  got  rid 


THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL  31 

of    a  lot  of    rubbish   to-night,  and    that    is   worth 
something." 

She  sank  back  in  her  chair  and  clasped  her  hands 
over  her  breast  with  a  sigh.  She  felt  strangely  weary. 
Her  eyes  sought  the  clock  once  more,  and  doing 
so  rested  upon  the  Christmas  Angel  lying  beside 
it.  She  frowned  and  closed  her  eyes  to  shut  out 
the  sight  with  its  haunting  memories  and  sugges- 
tions   -  — 


CHAPTER  VII 

BEFORE     THE     FIRE 

iIJDDENLY  there  was  a  volume  o£  sound 
outside,  and  a  great  brightness  filled  the 
room.  Miss  Terry  opened  her  eyes.  The 
fire  was  burning  red  ;  but  a  yellow  light, 
as  from  thousands  of  candles,  shone  in  at  the  window, 
and  there  was  the  sound  of  singing,  —  the  sw^eetest 
singing  that  Miss  Terry  had  ever  heard. 

"  An  Angel  of  the  Lord  came  down, 
And  glory  shone  around." 

The  words  seemed  chanted  by  the  voices  of  young 
angels.  Miss  Terry  passed  her  hands  over  her  eyes 
and  orlanced  at  the  clock.  But  what  the  hour  was  she 
never  noticed,  for  her  gaze  was  filled  with  something 
else.  Beside  the  clock,  in  the  spot  where  she  had 
laid  it  a  few  minutes  before,  was  the  Christmas 
Angel.  But  now,  instead  of  lying  helplessly  on  its 
back,  it  was  standing  on  rosy  feet,  with  arms  out- 
stretched toward  her.  Over  its  head  fluttered  gauzy 
wings.  From  under  the  yellow  hair  which  rippled  over 


BEFORE   THE   FIRE  33 

the  shoulders  two  blue  eyes  beamed  kindly  upon 
her,  and  the  mouth  widened  into  the  sweetest  smile. 

"  Peace  on  earth  to  men  of  good-will ! "  cried  the 
Angel,  and  the  tone  of  his  speech  was  music,  yet 
quite  natural  and  thrilling. 

Miss  Terry  stared  hard  at  the  Angel  and  rubbed 
her  eyes,  saying  to  herself,  "  Fiddlestick !  I  am 
dreaming ! " 

But  she  could  not  rub  away  the  vision.  When  she 
opened  her  eyes  the  Angel  still  stood  tiptoe  on  the 
mantel-shelf,  smiling  at  her  and  shaking  his  golden 
head. 

"  Angelina !  "  said  the  Angel  softly ;  and  Miss 
Terry  trembled  to  hear  her  name  thus  spoken  for 
the  first  time  in  years.  "  Angelina,  you  do  not  want 
to  believe  your  own  eyes,  do  you  ?  But  I  am  real ; 
more  real  than  the  things  you  see  every  day.  You 
must  believe  in  me.   I  am  the  Christmas  AngeL" 

"  I  know  it."  Miss  Terry's  voice  was  hoarse  and 
unmanageable,  as  of  one  in  a  nightmare.  "  I  re- 
member.' 

"You  remember!"  repeated  the  Angel.  '^Yes; 
you  remember  the  day  when  you  and  Tom  hung  me 
on  the  Christmas  tree.  You  were  a  sweet  little  girl 
then,  with  blue  eyes  and  yellow  curls.  You  believed 
the  Christmas  story  and  loved    Santa  Claus.  Then 


34  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

you  were  simple  and  affectionate  and  generous  and 
happy." 

"  Fiddlestick  ! "  Miss  Terry  tried  to  say.  But  the 
word  would  not  come. 

"Now  you  have  lost  the  old  behef  and  the  old 
love,"  went  on  the  Angel.  "'  Now  you  have  studied 
books  and  read  wise  men's  saymgs.  You  understand 
the  higher  criticism,  and  the  higher  charity,  and  the 
higher  egoism.  You  don't  believe  in  mere  giving. 
You  don't  believe  in  the  Christmas  economics,  —  you 
know  better.  But  are  you  happy,  dear  Angelina?'' 

Again  Miss  Terry  thrilled  at  the  sound  of  her 
name  so  sweetly  spoken  ;  but  she  answered  nothing. 
The  Angel  replied  for  her. 

"  No,  you  are  not  happy  because  you  have  cut 
yourself  off  from  the  things  that  bring  folk  together 
in  peace  and  good-will  at  this  holy  time.  Where  are 
your  friends  ?  Where  is  your  brother  to-night  ?  You 
are  still  hard  and  unforgiving  to  Tom.  You  refused 
to  see  him  to-day,  though  he  wTote  so  boyishly,  so 
humbly  and  affectionately.  You  have  not  tried  to 
make  any  soul  happy.  You  don't  believe  in  me,  the 
Christmas  Spirit." 

There  is  such  a  word  as  Fiddlestick^  whatever  it 
may  mean.  But  Miss  Terry's  mind  and  tongue  were 
unable  to  form  it. 


BEFORE   THE    FTRE  35 

"The  Christmas  spirit!"  continued  the  Angel 
^'What  is  life  worth  if  one  cannot  believe  in  the 
Christmas  spirit?  " 

With  a  powerful  effort  Miss  Terry  shook  off  her 
nightmare  sufficiently  to  say,  "  The  Christmas  spirit 
is  no  real  thing.  I  have  proved  it  to-night.  It  is  not 
real.  It  is  a  humbug!  " 

"Not  real?  A  humbug ?"  repeated  the  Angel 
softly.  "And  you  have  proved  it,  Angelina,  this 
very  night?" 

Miss  Terry  nodded. 

"  I  know  what  you  have  done,"  said  the  Angel. 
"  I  know  very  well.  How  keen  you  were !  How 
clever !  You  made  a  test  of  Chance,  to  prove  your 
point." 

Again  Miss  Terry  nodded  with  complacency. 

"  What  knowledge  of  the  world  !  What  grasp  of 
human  nature!  "  commented  the  Angel,  smiling.  "It 
is  like  you  mere  mortals  to  say,  '  I  will  make  my 
test  in  my  own  way.  If  certain  things  happen,  I 
shall  foresee  what  the  result  must  be.  If  certain 
other  things  happen,  I  shall  know  that  I  am  right.' 
Events  fall  out  as  you  expect,  and  you  smile  with 
satisfaction,  feeling  your  wisdom  justified.  It  ought 
to  make  you  happy.   But  does  it  ?" 

Miss  Terry  regarded  the  Angel  doubtfully. 


36  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

''  Look  now  ! "  he  went  on,  holding  up  a  rosy 
finger.  "  You  are  so  near-sighted !  You  are  so  un- 
imaginative !  You  do  not  dream  beyond  the  thing 
you  see.  You  judge  the  tale  finished  while  the  best 
has  yet  to  be  told.  And  you  stake  your  faith,  your 
hope,  your  charity  upon  this  blind  human  judgment, 
—  which  is  mere  Chance!  " 

Miss  Terry  opened  her  lips  to  say,  ^^  I  saw  — ''  but 
the  Angel  interrupted  her. 

"  You  saw  but  the  beginning,''  he  said.  "  You  saw 
but  the  first  page  of  each  history.  Shall  I  turn  over 
the  leaves  and  let  you  read  what  really  happened  ? 
Shall  I  help  you  to  see  the  whole  truth  instead  of  a 
part  ?  On  this  night  holy  Truth,  which  is  of  Heaven, 
comes  for  all  men  to  see  and  to  believe.  Look !  " 


CHAPTER   VIII 


JACK    AGAIN 


^HE  Christmas  Angel  gently  waved  his 
hand  to  and  fro.  Gradually,  as  Miss 
Terry  sat  back  in  her  chair,  the  library 
grew  dark;  or  rather,  things  faded  into 
an  indistinguishable  blur.  Then  it  seemed  as  if  she 
were  sitting  at  a  theatre  gazing  at  a  great  stage.  But 
at  this  theatre  there  was  nothing  about  her,  nothing 
between  her  and  the  place  where  things  were  hap- 
pening. 

First  she  saw  two  little  ragamuffins  quarreling 
over  something  in  the  snow.  She  recognized  them. 
They  were  the  two  Jewish  boys  who  had  picked  up 
the  Jack-in-the-box.  An  officer  appeared,  and  they 
ran  away,  the  bigger  boy  having  possession  of  the 
toy ;  the  smaller  one  with  fists  in  his  eyes,  bawling 
with  disappointment. 

Miss  Terry's  lips  curled  with  the  cynical  dis- 
gust which  she  had  felt  when  first  witnessing  this 
scene.    But  a   sweet  voice — and  she  knew  it  was 


38  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

the  Angel's  —  whispered  in  her  ear,  "Wait  and 
see!" 

She  watched  the  two  boys  run  through  the  streets 
until  they  came  to  a  dark  corner.  There  the  little 
fellow  caught  up  with  the  other,  and  once  more  the 
struggle  began.  It  was  a  hard  and  bloody  fight.  But 
this  time  the  victory  was  with  the  smaller  lad,  who 
used  his  fists  and  feet  like  an  enraged  animal,  until 
the  other  howled  for  mercy  and  handed  over  the  dis- 
puted toy. 

^'Whatcher  want  it  fer,  Sam?"  he  blubbered  as 
he  saw  it  go  into  the  little  fellow's  pocket. 

"  Mind  yer  own  business !  I  just  want  it,"  an- 
swered Sam  surlily. 

"  Betcher  I  know,"  taunted  the  bigger  boy. 

"  Betcher  yer  don't." 

'^Do!" 

"  Don't !  " 

Another  fight  seemed  imminent.  But  wisdom 
prevailed  with  Sammy.  He  would  not  challenge 
fate  a  third  time.  ^' Come  on,  then,  and  see,"  he 
grunted. 

And  Ike  followed.  Olf  the  two  trudoed,  throuoh 
the  brilliantly  lighted  streets,  until  they  came  to  a 
part  of  the  city  where  the  ways  were  narrower  and 
dark. 


JACK   AGAIN  39 

"Huh!  Knowed  you  was  comin'  here,"  commented 
Ike  as  they  turned  into  a  grim,  dirty  alley. 

Little  Sam  growled,  "Didn't!"  apparently  as  a 
matter  of  habit. 

"Did!"  reasserted  Ike.  "Just  where  I  was  comin' 
myself." 

Sam  turned  to  him  with  a  grin. 

"Was  yer  now?  By  —  !  Ain't  that  funny?  I 
thought  of  it  right  off." 

"Sure.  Same  here!" 

They  both  burst  into  a  guffaw  and  executed  an 
impromptu  double -shuffle  of  delight.  They  were  at 
the  door  of  a  tenement  house  with  steep  stairs  lead- 
ing into  darkness.  Up  three  flights  pounded  the 
two  pairs  of  heavy  boots,  till  they  reached  a  half- 
open  door,  whence  issued  the  clatter  of  a  sewing- 
machine  and  the  voices  of  children.  Sam  stood 
on  the  threshold  grinning  debonairly,  with  hands 
thrust  into  his  pockets.  Ike  peered  over  his  shoul- 
der, also  grinning. 

It  was  a  meagre  room  into  which  they  gazed,  a 
room  the  chief  furniture  of  which  seemed  to  be 
babies.  Two  little  ones  sprawled  on  the  floor.  A 
third  tiny  tot  lay  in  a  broken-down  carriage  beside 
the  door.  A  pale,  ill-looking  woman  was  running 
the  machine.  On  the  cot  bed  was  crumpled  a  fragile 


40  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

little  fellow  of  about  live,  and  a  small  pair  of  crutches 
lay  across  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

When  the  two  boys  appeared  in  the  doorway,  the 
woman  stopped  her  machine  and  the  children  set  up 
ahowl  of  pleasure.  "  Sammy !  Ikey ! "  cried  the  woman, 
smiling  a  wan  welcome,  as  the  babies  crept  and  tod- 
dled toward  the  newcomers.  ^'  Where  ye  come  from?" 

"Been  to  see  the  shops  and  the  lights  in  the  swell 
houses,"  answered  Sammy  with  a  grimace.  "Gee! 
Ain't  they  wastin'  candles  to  beat  the  cars!" 

"Enough  to  last  a  family  a  whole  year,"  muttered 
Ike  with  disgust. 

The  woman  sighed.  "Maybe  they  ain't  wasted 
exactly,"  she  said.  "How  I'd  like  to  see  'em!  But 
I  got  to  finish  this  job.  I  told  the  chil'ren  they 
must  n't  expect  anything  this  Christmas.  But  they 
are  too  little  to  know  the  difference  anyway ;  all  but 
Joe.  I  wish  I  had  something  for  Joe." 

"  I  got  something  for  Joe,"  said  Sammy  unex- 
pectedly. 

The  face  of  the  pale  little  cripple  lighted. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked  eagerly.  "Oh,  what  is 
it?  A  real  Christmas  present  for  me?" 

"Naw  !  It  ain't  a  Christmas  present,"  said  Sam. 

"  We  don't  care  anything  about  Christmas,"  vol- 
unteered Ikey  with  a  grin. 


JACK   AGAIN  41 

Sam  looked  at  him  with  a  frown  of  rebuke. 

"It's  just  2i  present,'"'  he  said.  "And  it  didn't 
cost  a  cent.  I  did  n't  buy  it.  I  —  we  found  it !  " 

"  Found  it  in  the  street?  "  Joe's  eyes  shone. 

"  Yah  !  "  the  boys  nodded. 

"  Oh,  it  is  a  Christmas  present !  "  cried  Joe. 
"  Santa  Claus  must  have  dropped  it  there  for  me,  be- 
cause he  knew  we  had  n't  any  chimney  in  this  house, 
and  he  sent  you  kind,  kind  boys  to  bring  it  to  me." 

The  two  urchins  looked  sideways  at  each  other, 
but  said  nothing.  Presently  Sam  drew  out  the  box 
from  his  pocket  and  tried  to  thrust  it  into  Ike's 
hand.  "  You  give  it  to  'um,"  he  said.  "You  're  the 
biggest." 

"  Naw !  You  give  it.  You  found  it,"  protested 
Ike. 

"  Ah,  g'wan  !  " 

"Big  fool!" 

There  was  a  tussle,  and  it  almost  seemed  as  if  the 
past  unpleasantness  was  to  be  repeated  from  an  op- 
posite cause.  But  Joe's  voice  settled  the  dispute. 

"Oh,  Sammy,  please!"  he  cried.  "I  can't  wait 
another  minute.  Do  please  give  it  to  me  now  !  " 

At  these  words  Sam  stepped  forward  without  fur- 
ther argument  and  laid  the  box  on  the  bed  in  front 
of  the  little  cripple.  The  babies  crowded  about.  The 


42  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

mother  left  her  machine  and  stood  smiUng  faintly  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed. 

Joe  pressed  the  spring.  Plyiy !  Out  sprang  the 
Jack-in-the-box,  with  the  same  red  nose,  the  same 
leer,  the  same  roguish  eyes  which  had  surprised  the 
children  of  fifty  years  ago. 

Jack  was  always  sure  of  his  audience.  My  !  How 
they  screamed  and  begged  Joe  to  "  do  it  again." 
And  as  for  Joe,  he  lay  back  on  his  pillow  and  laughed 
and  laughed  as  though  he  would  never  stop.  It  was 
the  first  Jack  any  of  them  had  seen. 

Tears  stood  in  the  mother's  eyes.  "  Well,"  she  said, 
"it's  as  good  as  a  play  to  see  him.  Joe  hasn't 
laughed  like  that  for  months.  You  boys  have  done 
him  lots  of  good.  I  would  n't  wonder  if  it  helped 
him  get  well !  If  you  was  Christians  I  'd  say  you 
showed  the  real  Christmas  spirit.  But  Lord  —  per- 
haps ye  do,  all  the  same  !  I  dunno  !  " 

Sam  and  Ike  were  so  busy  playing  with  the  child- 
ren that  they  did  not  hear. 

Gradually  the  tenement  house  faded  and  became 
a  blur  before  Miss  Terry's  eyes.  Once  more  she  saw 
the  mantel-shelf  before  her  and  the  Christmas  Ansel 
with  outstretched  arms  waving  to  and  fro.  '*  You 
see!"  he   said.  '^  You   did  not  guess  all  the  plea- 


PING'  OUT  SPRANG  THE  JACK-IN-THE-BOX 


JACK   AGAIN  43 

sure  that  was  shut  up  in  that  box  with  old  Jack,  did 
you?" 

Miss  Terry  shook  her  head. 

"  And  you  see  how  different  it  all  was  from  what 
you  thought.  Now  let  us  see  what  became  of  the 
Canton-flannel  dog." 

"  The  Flanton  Dog."  Miss  Terry  amended  the 
phrase  under  her  breath.  It  seemed  so  natural  to  use 
Tom's  word. 

"  Yes,  the  Flanton  Dog,"  the  Angel  smiled.  "  What 
do  you  think  became  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  saw  what  became  of  him,"  said  Miss  Terry. 
^'  Bob  Cooper  threw  him  under  an  automobile,  and 
he  was  crushed  flatter  than  a  pancake." 

"  Then  you  left  the  window,"  said  the  Angel. 
"  In  your  human  way  you  assumed  that  this  was 
the  end.  But  wait  and  see." 

Once  more  the  room  darkened  and  blurred,  and 
Miss  Terry  looked  out  upon  past  events  as  upon  a 
busy,  ever-shifting  stage. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    DOG    AGAIN 

)HE  saw  the  snowy  street,  into  which, 
from  the  tip  of  his  stick.  Bob  Cooper 
had  just  tossed  the  Flanton  Dog.  She 
saw,  what  she  had  not  seen  before,  the 
woman  and  child  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 
She  saw  the  baby  stretch  out  wistful  hands  after 
the  dog  lying  in  the  snow.  Then  an  automobile 
honked  past,  and  she  felt  again  the  thrill  of  horror 
as  it  ran  over  the  poor  old  toy.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment the  child  screamed,  and  she  saw  it  point  tear- 
fully at  the  Flanton  tragedy.  The  mother,  who  had 
seen  nothing  of  all  this,  stooped  and  spoke  to  him 
reprovingly. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Johnnie?  "  she  said.  "  Sh  ! 
Don't  make  such  a  noise.  Here  we  are  at  Mrs. 
Wales's  gate,  and  you  must  n't  make  a  fuss.  Now 
be  a  good  boy  and  w^ait  here  till  Mother  comes  out." 

She  rang  the  area  bell  and  stood  basket  in  hand, 
waiting  to  be  admitted.  But  Johnnie  gazed  at  one 
spot  in  the  street,  with  eyes  full  of  tears^  and  with 


THE   DOG  AGAIN  45 

now  and  then  a  sob  gurgling  from  his  throat.  He 
could  not  forget  what  he  had  seen. 

The  door  opened  for  the  mother,  who  disappeared 
inside  the  house,  with  one  last  command  to  the  chikl : 
"  Now  be  a  good  boy,  Johnnie.  I  '11  be  back  in  half 
a  minute." 

Hardly  was  she  out  of  sight  when  Johnnie  started 
through  the  snowdrift  toward  the  middle  of  the 
street.  With  difficulty  he  lifted  his  little  legs  out  of 
the  deep  snow ;  now  and  then  he  stumbled  and  fell 
into  the  soft  mass.  But  he  rose  only  the  more  de- 
termined upon  his  errand,  and  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  wreck  of  the  Flanton  Doo^. 

Bob  Cooper,  who  was  idly  strolling  up  and  down 
the  block,  smoking  a  cigarette,  as  he  watched  the 
flitting  girlish  shadows  in  a  certain  window  oppo- 
site, saw  the  child's  frantic  struggles  in  the  snow 
and  was  intensely  amused.  "Bah  Jove!"  he  chuc- 
kled. "  I  believe  he 's  after  the  wretched  dawg  that 
I  tossed  over  there  with  my  stick.  Fahncy  it!"  And 
carelessly  he  puffed  a  whiff  of  smoke. 

At  last  the  baby  reached  the  middle  of  the  street 
and  stooped  to  pick  up  the  battered  toy.  It  was  flat- 
tened and  shapeless,  but  the  child  clasped  it  ten- 
derly and  began  to  coo  softly  to  it. 

"  Bah  Jove  !  "  repeated  Cooper.  "  Fahncy  caring 


46  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

so  much  about  anything  !  Poor  kid !  Perhaps  that  is 
all  the  Christmas  he  will  have."  He  blew  a  thought- 
ful puff  through  his  nose.  "Christmas  Eve!"  The 
thought  flashed  through  his  mind  with  a  new  appeal. 

Just  then  came  a  sudden  " IIo7ik,  honk!  ''  An 
automobile  had  turned  the  corner  and  was  coming 
up  at  full  speed.  It  was  the  same  machine  which  had 
passed  a  few  minutes  earlier  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Hi  there  !  "  Cooper  yelled  to  the  child.  But  the 
latter  was  sitting  in  the  snow  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  rocking  back  and  forth,  with  the  Flanton  Dog 
in  his  arms.  There  was  scarcely  time  for  action. 
Bob  dropped  his  cigarette  and  his  cane,  made  one 
leap  into  the  street  and  another  to  the  child,  and  by 
the  impact  of  his  body  threw  the  baby  into  the  drift 
at  the  curb.  With  a  horrified  honk  the  automobile 
passed  over  the  young  man,  Avho  lay  senseless  in  the 
snow. 

He  was  not  killed.  Miss  Terry  saw  him  taken  to 
his  home  close  by,  where  his  broken  leg  was  set 
and  his  bruises  attended  to.  She  saw  him  lying 
bandaged  and  white  on  his  bed  when  the  woman 
and  her  child  were  brought  to  see  him.  Johnnie  was 
still  clasping  closely  the  unlucky  Flanton  Dog. 

"  Well,  Kid,"  said  the  young  man  feebly,  "  so 
you  saved  the  dog,  after  all." 


l^-fl;e=5s^  ^^^2= 


^^-^  I 


~^^t^ 


J  >  O  J  • 


BOB  COOPER  SAVES  THE  BABY 


THE    DOG   AGAIN  47 

"  0  sir  !  "  cried  the  poor  woman,  weeping.  "Only  to 
think  that  he  would  not  be  here  now  but  for  you. 
What  a  Christmas  that  would  have  been  for  me! 
You  w^ere  so  good,  so  brave  !  '^ 

"  Oh,  rot ! "  protested  Bob  faintly.  "  Had  to  do  it; 
my  fault  anyway;  Christmas  Eve,  —  couldn't  see  a 
kid  hurt  on  Christmas  Eve." 

He  called  the  attendant  and  asked  for  the  pocket- 
book  which  had  been  in  his  coat  at  the  time  of  the 
accident.  Putting  it  into  the  woman's  hand,  he  said, 
"  Good-by.  Get  Johnnie  something  really  jolly  for 
Christmas.  I'm  afraid  the  dog  is  about  all  in.  Get 
him  a  new  one." 

But  Johnnie  refused  to  have  a  new  dog.  It  was 
the  poor,  shapeless  Flanton  animal  which  remained 
the  darling  of  his  heart  for  many  a  moon. 

All  this  of  past  and  future  Miss  Terry  knew 
through  the  Angel's  power.  When  once  more  the 
library  lightened,  and  she  saw  the  pink  figure 
smiling  at  her  from  the  mantel,  she  spoke  of  her 
own  accord. 

"It  was  my  fault,  because  I  put  the  dog  in  the 
way.    I  caused  all  that  trouble." 

"Trouble?"  said  the  Angel,  puzzled.  "Do  you 
call  it  trouble  f  Do  you  not  see  what  it  has  done 


48  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

for  that  heartless  youth  ?  It  brought  his  good  mo- 
ment. Perhaps  he  will  be  a  different  man  after  this. 
And  as  for  the  child  ;  he  was  made  happy  by  some- 
thing that  would  otherwise  have  been  wasted,  and 
he  has  gained  a  friend  who  will  not  forget  him. 
Trouble!  And  do  you  think  you  did  it?"  He 
laughed  knowingly. 

"  I  certainly  did/'  said  Miss  Terry  firmly. 

"  But  it  was  I,  yes  /,  the  Christmas  Spirit,  who 
put  it  into  your  head  to  do  what  you  did.  You  may 
not  believe  it,  but  so  it  was.  You  too,  even  you, 
Angelina,  could  not  quite  escape  the  influence  of 
the  Christmas  Spirit,  and  so  these  things  have  hap- 
pened. But  now  let  us  see  what  became  of  the  third 
experiment." 


CHAPTER   X 

NOAH    AGAIN 

N  the  street  of  candles  a  woman  dressed 
all  in  black  had  picked  up  the  poor  old 
Noah's  ark  and  was  looking  at  it  wildly. 
She  was  a  widow  who  had  just  lost  her 
only  child,  a  little  son,  and  she  was  in  a  state  of 
morbid  bitterness  bordering  on  distraction. 

When  the  second  woman  with  the  two  little  ones 
came  up  and  begged  for  the  toy,  something  hard  and 
sullen  and  cruel  rose  in  the  widow's  heart,  and  she 
refused  angrily  to  give  up  the  thing.  She  hated  those 
two  boys  who  had  been  spared  when  her  own  was 
taken.  She  would  not  make  them  happy. 

"  No,  you  shall  not  have  it,"  she  cried,  clutching 
the  Noah's  ark  fiercely.  "  I  will  destroy  it." 

The  poor  woman  and  the  children  followed  her 
wistfully.  The  little  boys  were  crying.  They  were 
cold  and  hungry  and  disappointed.  They  had  come 
so  near  to  something  pleasant.  They  had  almost 
been  lucky ;  but  the  luck  had  passed  over  their 
heads  to  another. 


50  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

The  woman  in  mourning  strode  on  rapidly,  the 
thoughts  within  her  no  less  black  than  the  garments 
which  she  wore.  She  hated  the  world ;  she  hated  the 
people  who  lived  in  it.  She  hated  Christmas  time, 
when  every  one  seemed  merry  except  herself.  And 
yes,  yes!  Most  of  all  she  hated  children.  She  clenched 
her  teeth  wickedly  ;  her  mind  reeled. 

Suddenly,  somewhere,  a  chorus  of  happy  voices 
began  to  sing  the  words  of  an  old  carol  :  — 

*'  Holy  night !  Peaceful  night ! 
All  is  dark  save  the  light, 
Yonder  where  they  sweet  vigil  keep, 
O'er  the  Babe  who  in  silent  sleep 
Rests  in  heavenly  peace." 

Softly  and  sweetly  the  childish  voices  ascended 
from  the  street.  The  woman  in  black  stopped  short, 
breathing  hard.  She  saw  the  band  of  choristers  stand- 
ing in  a  group  on  the  sidewalk  and  in  the  snow,  their 
hats  pulled  down  over  their  eyes,  their  collars  turned 
up  around  their  ears,  their  hands  deep  in  pockets. 
In  their  midst  rose  the  tall  wooden  cross  carried  by 
a  little  fellow  with  yellow  hair.  They  sang  as  sim- 
ply and  as  heartily  as  a  flock  of  birds  out  in  the 
snow. 

The  woman  gave  a  great  sob.  Her  little  lad  had 
been  a  choir  boy,  —  perhaps  these  were  his  one-time 


NOAH    AGAIN  51 

comrades.  The  second  verse  of  the  carol  rang  out 
sweetly :  — 

"  Holy  night !  Peaceful  night  ! 
Only  for  shepherds'  sight 
Came  blest  visions  of  angel  throngs, 
With  their  loud  Hallelujah  songs, 
Saying,  Jesus  is  come  !  " 

Suddenly  it  seemed  to  the  distracted  mother  that 
her  own  boy's  voice  blended  with  those  others.  He 
too  was  singing  in  honor  of  that  Child.  Happy  and 
ever  young,  he  w^as  bidding  her  rejoice  in  the  day 
which  made  all  childhood  sacred.  And  for  his  sake 
she  had  been  hating  children  ! 

With  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  she  turned  to 
see  what  had  become  of  the  poor  mother  and  her 
boys.  They  were  not  far  behind,  huddling  in  the 
shadow.  The  black  woman  strode  quickly  up  to  them. 
They  shrank  pitifully  at  her  approach,  and  she  felt 
the  shame  of  it.   They  were  afraid  of  her ! 

"  Here,"  she  said,  thrusting  the  Noah's  ark  into 
the  hands  of  the  larger  boy.  "  Take  it.  It  belongs 
to  you." 

The  child  took  it  timidly.  The  mother  began  to 
protest  thanks.  Trying  to  control  the  shake  in  her 
voice  the  dark  lady  spoke  again.  '^  Have  you  pre- 
pared a  Christmas  for  your  children  ?  " 


52  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

The  woman  shook  her  head.  "  I  have  nothing/' 
she  sighed.  "  A  roof  over  our  heads,  that 's  all." 

"Your  husband?" 

"  My  man  died  a  month  ago." 

So  other  folk  had  raw  sorrows,  too.  The  mourner 
had  forgotten  that. 

"  There  is  no  one  expecting  you  at  home  ?  "  Again 
the  woman  shook  her  head  dolefully.  "Come  with 
me,"  said  the  dark  lady  impulsively.  "  You  shall  be 
my  guests  to-night.  And  to-morrow  I  will  make  a 
Christmas  for  the  children.  The  house  shall  put  off 
its  shadow.  I  too  will  light  candles.  I  have  toys," 
—  her  voice  broke,  —  "and  clothing;  many  things, 
which  are  being  wasted.  That  is  not  right !  Some- 
thing led  you  to  me,  or  me  to  you  ;  something,  — 
perhaps  it  was  an  Angel,  —  whoever  dropped  that 
Noah's  ark  in  the  street.  An  Angel  might  do  that, 
I  believe.  Come  with  me." 

The  woman  and  her  sons  followed  her,  rejoicing 
greatly  in  the  midst  of  their  wonder. 

There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  through  which  Miss 
Terry  saw  once  more  the  Christmas  Angel.  She 
wiped  them  hastily.  But  still  the  Angel  seemed  to 
shine  with  a  fairer  radiance. 

"  You  see ! "  was  all  he  said.  And  Miss  Terry 
bowed  her  head.  She  began  to  understand. 


CHAPTER   XI 

MIRANDA    AGAIN 

|NCE  more,  on  the  wings  of  vision,  Miss 
Terry  was  out  in  the  snowy  street.  She 
was  following  the  fleet  steps  of  a  little 
girl  who  carried  a  white-paper  package 
under  her  arm.  Miss  Terry  knew  that  she  was  learn- 
ing the  fate  of  her  old  doll,  Miranda,  whom  her  own 
hands  had  thrust  out  into  a  cold  world. 

Poor  Miranda  !  After  all  these  years  to  become 
the  property  of  a  thief  !  Mary  was  the  little  thief 's 
name.  Hugging  the  tempting  package  close,  Mary 
ran  and  ran  until  she  was  out  of  breath.  Her  one 
thought  was  to  get  as  far  as  possible  from  the  place 
where  the  bundle  had  lain.  For  she  suspected  that 
the  steps  where  she  had  found  it  led  up  to  the 
doll's  home.  That  was  why  in  her  own  eyes  also 
she  was  a  little  thief.  But  now  she  had  run  so 
far  and  had  turned  so  many  corners  that  she  could 
not  find  her  way  back  if  she  would.  There  was  tri- 
umph in  the  thought.  Mary  chuckled  to  herself  as 
she  stopped  running  and  began  to  walk  leisurely 


54  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

in  the  neisfhborhood  with  which  she  was  more 
familiar. 

She  pinched  the  package  gently.  Yes,  there  could 
be  no  doubt  about  it.  It  was  a  doll,  —  not  a  very 
large  doll;  but  Mary  reflected  that  she  had  never 
thought  she  should  care  for  a  large  doll.  Undoubt- 
edly it  was  a  very  nice  one.  Had  she  not  found  it 
in  a  swell  part  of  the  city,  on  the  steps  of  a  swell- 
looking  house?  Mary  gloated  over  the  doll  as  she 
fancied  it;  with  real  hair,  and  eyes  that  opened  and 
shut;  with  four  little  white  teeth,  and  hands  with 
dimples  in  the  knuckles.  She  had  seen  such  dolls  in 
the  windows  of  the  big  shops.  But  she  had  never 
hoped  to  have  one  for  her  very  own. 

"  Maybe  it  will  have  on  a  blue  silk  dress  and  white 
kid  shoes,  like  that  one  I  saw  this  morning  !  "  she 
mused  rapturously. 

She  pinched  the  spot  where  she  fancied  the  doll's 
feet  ought  to  be. 

"  Yes,  she 's  got  shoes,  sure  enough  !  I  bet  they  're 
white,  too.  They  feel  white.  Oh,  what  fun  I  shall 
have  with  her,"  —  she  hugged  the  doll  fondly,  — 
"  if  Uncle  and  Aunt  don't  take  her  away  !  " 

The  sudden  thought  made  her  stand  still  in  horror. 
^^They  sold  Mother's  little  clock  for  rum,"  she  said 
bitterly.   "  They   sold   the  ring  with  the  red   stone 


MIRANDA   AGAIN  65 

that  Father  gave  me  on  my  birthday  when  I  was 
seven.  They  sold  the  presents  that  I  got  at  Sun- 
day School  last  year.  Oh,  would  n't  it  be  dreadful  if 
they  should  sell  my  new  doll !  And  I  know  they  will 
want  to  if  they  see  her."  She  squeezed  the  bundle 
closer  with  the  prescient  pang  of  parting. 

"Maybe  they'll  be  out  somewhere."  With  this 
faint  hope  she  reached  the  tenement  and  crept  up  the 
dingy  stairs.  She  peeped  in  at  the  door.  Alas  !  Her 
uncle  and  aunt  were  in  the  kitchen,  through  which 
she  had  to  pass.  They  had  company  ;  some  dirty- 
looking  men  and  women,  and  there  were  a  jug  and 
glasses  on  the  table  before  them.  Mary's  heart  sank, 
but  she  nodded  bravely  to  the  company  and  tried 
to  slip  through  the  crowd  to  the  other  room.  But 
her  aunt  was  quick  to  see  that  she  carried  something 
under  her  coat. 

"What  you  got  there?  A  Christmas  present?" 
she  sneered. 

Mary  flushed.  "No,"  she  said  slowly,  "just 
something  I  found." 

"  Found  ?    Hello,  what  is  it  ?  A  package !  " 

Her  uncle  advanced  and  snatched  it  from  her. 

"Please,"  pleaded  Mary,  "please,  I  found  it.  It 
is  mine.  I  think  it  is  only  a  doll." 

"  A  doll !  Huh!  Who  needs  a  doll  ?  "  hiccoughed 


56  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

her  uncle.  "  We  want  something  more  to  drink. 
We'll  sell  it—" 

A  bellow  of  laughter  resounded  through  the  room. 
The  paper  being  torn  roughly  away,  poor  Miranda 
stood  revealed  in  all  her  faded  beauty.  The  pallid 
waxen  face,  straggling  hair,  and  old-fashioned  dress 
presented  a  sorry  sight  to  the  greedy  eyes  which  had 
expected  to  find  something  exchangeable  for  drink. 
A  sorry  sight  she  was  to  Mary,  who  had  hoped  for 
something  so  much  lovelier.  A  flush  of  disappoint- 
ment came  into  her  cheek,  and  tears  to  her  eyes. 

"  Here,  take  your  old  doll,"  said  her  uncle  roughly, 
thrusting  it  into  her  arms.  "  Take  your  old  doll  and 
get  away  with  her.  If  that 's  the  best  you  can  find 
you'd  better  steal  something  next  time." 

Steal  something !  Had  she  not  in  fact  stolen  it  ? 
Mary  knew  very  well  that  she  had,  and  she  flushed 
pinker  yet  to  think  what  a  fool  she  had  made  of 
herself  for  nothing.  She  took  the  despised  doll  and 
retreated  into  the  other  room,  followed  by  a  chorus 
of  jeers  and  comments.  She  banged  the  door  behind 
her  and  sat  down  with  poor  Miranda  on  her  knees, 
crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She  had  so  longed 
for  a  beautiful  doll !  It  did  seem  too  cruel  that  when 
she  found  one  it  should  turn  out  to  be  so  ugly.  She 
seized  poor  Miranda  and  shook  her  fiercely. 


MIRANDA   AGAIN  57 

•'  You  horrid  old  thing !  "  she  said.  "  Ain't  you 
ashamed  to  fool  me  so  ?  Ain't  you  ashamed  to  make 
me  think  you  was  a  lovely  doll  with  pretty  clo'es 
and  white  kid  shoes  ?  Ain't  you  ?  " 

She  shook  Miranda  again  until  her  eyeballs  rattled 
in  her  head.  The  doll  fell  to  the  floor  and  lay  there 
with  closed  eyes.  Her  face  was  pallid  and  ghastly. 
Her  bonnet  had  fallen  off,  and  her  hair  stuck  out 
wildly  in  every  direction.  Her  legs  were  doubled 
under  her  in  the  most  helpless  fashion.  She  was  the 
forlornest  figure  of  a  doll  imaginable.  Presently 
Mary  drew  her  hands  away  from  her  eyes  and  looked 
down  at  Miranda.  There  was  something  in  the  doll's 
attitude  as  she  lay  there  which  touched  the  little 
girl's  heart.  Once  she  had  seen  a  woman  who  had 
been  injured  in  the  street,  —  she  would  never  forget 
it.  The  poor  creature's  eyes  had  been  closed,  and  her 
face,  under  the  fallen  bonnet,  was  of  this  same  pasty 
color.  Mary  shuddered.  Suddenly  she  felt  a  warm 
rush  of  pity  for  the  doll. 

"  You  poor  old  thing !  "  she  exclaimed,  looking 
at  Miranda  almost  tenderly.  "I'm  sorry  I  shook 
you.  You  look  so  tired  and  sad  and  homesick !  I 
wonder  if  somebody  is  worrying  about  you  this 
minute.  It  was  very  wicked  of  me  to  take  you  away 
—  on  Christmas  Eve,  too  !  I  wish  I  had  left  you 


58  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

where  I  found  you.  Maybe  some  little  girl  is  crying 
now  because  you  are  lost." 

Mary  stooped  and  lifted  the  doll  gently  upon  her 
knees.  As  she  took  Miranda  up,  the  blue  eyes  opened 
and  seemed  to  look  full  at  her.  Miranda's  one  beauty 
was  her  eyes.  Mary  felt  her  heart  grow  warmer  and 
warmer  toward  the  quaint  stranger. 

'^  You  have  lovely  eyes,"  she  murmured.  "  I  think 
after  all  you  are  almost  pretty.  Perhaps  I  should 
grow  to  like  you  awfully.  You  are  not  a  bit  like  the 
doll  I  hoped  to  have  ;  but  that  is  not  your  fault." 
A  thought  made  her  face  brighten.  "  Why,  if  you 
had  been  a  beautiful  doll  they  would  have  taken  you 
away  and  sold  you  for  rum."  Her  face  expressed 
utter  disgust.  She  hugged  Miranda  close  with  a 
sudden  outburst  of  affection.  "Oh,  you  dear  old 
thing!"  she  cried.  "I  am  so  glad  you  are  —  just 
like  this.  I  am  so  glad,  for  now  I  can  keep  you 
always  and  always,  and  no  one  will  Avant  to  take  you 
away  from  me." 

She  rocked  to  and  fro,  holding  the  doll  tightly  to  her 
heart.  Mary  was  not  one  to  feel  a  half -passion  about 
anything.  "  I  will  make  you  some  new  dresses,"  she 
said,  fingering  the  old-fashioned  silk  with  a  puzzled 
air.  "I  wonder  why  your  mother  dressed  you  so 
queerly  ?    She  was  not  much  of  a  sewer  if  she  made 


MIRANDA   AGAIN  59 

this  bonnet !  "  Scornfully  she  took  off  the  primitive 
bonnet  and  smoothed  out  the  tano^led  hair.  *'  I  won- 
der  what  you  have  on  underneath,"  she  said. 

With  gentle  fingers  she  began  to  undress  Miranda. 
Off  came  the  green  silk  dress  with  its  tight  "basque" 
and  overskirt.  Off  came  the  ruffled  petticoat  and 
little  chemise  edged  with  fine  lace.  And  Miranda 
stood  in  shapeless,  kid-bodied  ugliness,  which  stage 
of  evolution  the  doll  of  her  day  had  reached. 

But  there  was  something  more.  Around  her  neck 
she  wore  a  ribbon ;  on  the  ribbon  was  a  cardboard 
medal ;  and  on  the  medal  a  childish  hand  had 
scratched  the  legend,  — 

Miranda  Terry. 
If  lost,  please  return  her  to  her  mother, 
Angelina  Terry, 
87  Overlook  Terrace. 

It  was  such  a  card  as  Miss  Terry  herself  had 
worn  in  the  days  when  her  mother  had  first  let  her 
and  Tom  go  out  on  the  street  without  a  nurse. 

Mary  stared  hard  at  the  bit  of  cardboard.  87 
Overlook  Terrace  !  Yes,  that  was  where  she  had 
found  the  doll.  She  remembered  now  seeing  the 
name  on  a  street  corner.  Miranda ;  what  a  pretty 
name  for  a  doll !  Angelina  Terry  ;  so  that  was  the 


60  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

name  of  the  little  girl  who  had  lost  Miranda.  Ange- 
lina must  be  feeling  very  sorry  now.  Perhaps  she 
was  crying  herself  to  sleep,  for  it  was  growing  late. 

Her  two  girl  cousins  came  romping  into  the  bed- 
room. They  had  been  having  a  hilarious  evening. 

"  Hello,  Mary  !  "  they  cried.  "We  heard  about 
your  great  find!  "  —  "Playing  with  your  old  doll, 
are  you?  Goin'  to  hang  up  her  stockin'  and  see 
if  Santa  Claus  will  fill  it?"  — "Huh!  Santa  Glaus 
won't  come  to  this  house,  I  guess !  " 

Mary  had  almost  forgotten  that  it  was  Christmas 
Eve.  There  had  been  nothing  in  the  house  to  remind 
her.  Perhaps  Angelina  Terry  had  hung  up  a  stock- 
ing for  Miranda  at  87  Overlook  Terrace.  But  there 
would  be  no  Miranda  to  see  it  the  next  morning. 

Her  cousins  teased  her  for  some  time,  while  they 
undressed,  and  Mary  grew  sulky.  She  sat  in  her 
corner  and  answered  them  shortly.  But  presently 
the  room  was  quiet,  for  the  girls  slept  easily.  Then 
Mary  crept  into  her  little  cot  with  the  doll  in  her 
arms.  She  loved  Miranda  so  much  that  she  would 
never  part  with  her,  no  indeed  ;  not  even  though 
she  now  knew  where  Miranda  belonged.  87  Overlook 
Terrace !  The  figures  danced  before  her  eyes  ma- 
liciously. She  wished  she  could  forget  them.  And 
the  thought  of  Angelina  Terry  kept  coming  to  her. 
Poor  Anofelina  ! 


MIRANDA   AGAIN  61 

"  She  ain't  '  poor  Angelina/  "  argued  Mary  to 
herself.  "  She 's  rich  Angelina.  Does  n't  she  live  in 
a  big  house  in  the  swell  part  of  the  city  ?  I  s'pose 
she  has  hundreds  of  dolls,  much  handsomer  than 
Miranda,  and  lots  of  other  toys.  I  guess  she  won't 
miss  this  one  queer  old  doll.  I  guess  she  'd  let  me 
keep  it  if  she  knew  I  had  n't  any  of  my  own.  I  guess 
it  ought  to  be  my  doll.  Anyway,  I  'm  going  to  keep 
her.  I  don't  believe  Angelina  loves  Miranda  so  much 
as  I  do." 

She  laid  her  cheek  against  the  doll's  cold  waxen 
one  and  presently  fell  asleep. 

But  she  slept  uneasily.  In  the  middle  of  the 
night  she  awoke  and  lay  for  hours  tossing  and  un- 
happy in  the  stufpy  little  room.  The  clock  struck 
one,  two,  three.  At  last  she  gave  a  great  sigh,  and 
cuddling  Miranda  in  her  arms  turned  over,  with  peace 
in  her  heart. 

"  I  will  play  you  are  mine,  my  very  own  dollie,  for 
just  this  one  night,"  she  whispered  in  Miranda's  ear. 
"  To-morrow  will  be  Christmas  Day,  and  I  will  take 
you  back  to  your  little  mother,  Angelina  Terry.  I 
can't  do  a  mean  thing  at  Christmas  time,  —  not 
even  for  you,  dear  Miranda." 

Thereupon  she  fell  into  a  peaceful  sleep. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE    ANGEL    AGAIN 

ILL  she  bring  it  back?"  asked  Miss 
Terry  eagerly,  when  once  more  she 
found  herself  under  the  gaze  of  the 
Christmas  Angel.    He  nodded  brightly. 

"  To-morrow  morning  you  will  see,"  he  said.  "  It 
will  prove  that  all  I  have  shown  you  is  really  true." 

"  A  pretty  child,"  said  Miss  Terry  musingly.  "  A 
very  nice  child  indeed.  I  believe  she  looks  very  much 
as  I  used  to  be  myself." 

"  You  see,  she  is  not  a  thief,  after  all  ;  not  yet,"' 
said  the  Angel.  "  What  a  pity  that  she  must  live  in 
that  sad  home,  with  such  terrible  people  !  A  sensi- 
tive child  like  her,  craving  sympathy  and  affection, 
—  what  chance  has  she  for  happiness?  What  would 
you  yourself  have  been  in  surroundings  like  hers?" 

"  Yes,  she  is  very  like  what  I  was.  Of  course  I 
shall  let  her  keep  the  doll." 

Miss  Terry  hesitated.  The  Angel  looked  at  her 
steadily  and  his  glance  seemed  to  read  her  half- 
formed  thoughts. 


THE   ANGEL   AGAIN  63 

"  Surely,"  he  said.  ^'It  seems  to  belong  to  her, 
does  it  not?  But  is  this  all?  I  wonder  if  somethino- 
more  does  not  belono^  to  her." 

"  What  more?  "  asked  Miss  Terry  shortly. 

"  A  home !  "  cried  the  Ano-el. 

Miss  Terry  groped  in  her  memory  for  a  scornful 
ejaculation  which  she  had  once  been  fond  of  using, 
but  there  was  no  such  word  to  be  found.  Instead 
there  came  to  her  lips  the  name,  "  Mary," 

The  Angel  repeated  it  softly.  "  Mary.  It  is  a 
blessed  name,"  he  said.  "Blessed  the  roof  that 
shelters  a  Mary  in  her  need." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  in  which  Miss  Terry 
felt  new  impulses  stirring  within  her ;  impulses  draw- 
ing her  to  the  child  whose  looks  recalled  her  own 
childhood.  The  Angel  regarded  her  with  beaming 
eyes.  After  some  time  he  said  quietly,  "  Now  let 
us  see  what  became  of  your  last  experiment." 

Miss  Terry  started.  It  seemed  as  if  she  had  been 
interrupted  in  pleasant  dreaming.  "  You  were  the 
last  experiment,"  she  said.  "I  know  what  became 
of  you.    Here  you  are  !  " 

"  Yet  more  may  have  happened  than  you  guessed, " 
replied  the  Angel  meaningly.  "  I  have  tried  to  show 
you  how  often  that  is  the  case.  Look  again." 

Without  moving  from  her  chair  Miss  Terry  seemed 


64  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

to  be  looking  out  on  her  sidewalk,  where,  so  it 
seemed,  she  had  just  laid  the  pink  figure  of  the 
Angel.  She  saw  the  drunken  man  approach.  She 
heard  his  coarse  laugh  ;  saw  his  brutal  movement 
as  he  kicked  the  Christmas  token  into  the  street. 
In  sick  disgust  she  saw  him  reel  away  out  of  sight. 
She  saw  herself  run  down  the  steps,  rescue  the 
image,  and  bring  it  into  the  house.  Surely  the  story 
was  finished.   What  more  could  there  be  ? 

But  something  bade  her  vision  follow  the  steps  of 
the  wretched  man.  Down  the  street  he  reeled,  singing 
a  blasphemous  song.  With  a  whoop  he  rounded  a 
corner  and  ran  into  a  happy  party  which  filled  side- 
walk and  street,  as  it  hurried  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  came.  Good-naturedly  they  jostled  him 
against  the  wall,  and  he  grasped  a  railing  to  steady 
himself  as  they  swept  by.  It  was  the  choir  on  their 
way  to  carol  in  the  next  street.  Before  them  went 
the  cross-bearer,  lifting  high  his  simple  wooden 
emblem. 

The  eyes  of  the  drunken  man  caught  sight  of  this, 
and  wavered.  The  presence  of  the  crowd  conveyed 
no  meaninof  to  his  dazed  brains.  But  there  was 
something  in  the  familiar  symbol  which  held  his 
vision.  He  looked,  and  crossed  himself,  remember- 
ing the  traditions   of  his   childhood.  Some  of  the 


HE  GRASPED  A  RAILING  TO  STEADY   HIMSELF 


THE   ANGEL   AGAIN  65 

boys  were  humming  as  they  went  the  stirring  strains 
of  an  ancient  Christmas  march  known  to  all  nations  ; 
a  carol  which  began,  some  say,  as  a  rousing  drinking 
chorus. 

The  familiar  strain  touched  some  chord  in  the  sod- 
den brain.  The  man  gave  a  feeble  whinny,  trying  to 
follow  the  melody.  He  pulled  himself  together  and 
lurched  forward  in  a  sudden  impulse  to  join  the  band 
of  pilgrims.  But  by  the  time  he  had  taken  three 
steps  they  had  vanished,  miraculously,  as  it  seemed 
to  him. 

"  Begorra,  they  're  gone  !  "  he  cried.  "  Who  were 
they  ?  Were  they  rale  folks  ?  What  was  it  they 
was  singin'  ?" 

He  sank  back  helplessly  on  a  flight  of  steps. 
"  Ve-ni-te  a-do-i^e-ums .'"  he  croaked  in  a  quavering 
basso.  And  his  tangled  mind  went  through  strange 
processes.  Suddenly,  there  came  to  him  in  a  flash 
of  exaggerated  memory  the  figure  of  the  Christmas 
Angel  which  not  ten  minutes  earlier  he  had  kicked 
into  the  street.  A  pious  horror  fell  upon  him. 

"  Mither  o'  mercy  !  "  he  cried,  again  crossing  him- 
self. "  What  have  I  been  an'  done  ?  It  was  a  howly 
image ;  an'  what  did  I  do  to  ut  ?  Lemme  go  back 
an'  find  ut,  an'  take  ut  up  out  av  the  street." 

Greatly  sobered   by  his  fear,  he  staggered   down 


66  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

the  block  and  around  the  corner  to  the  steps  of  Miss 
Terry's  house.. 

"  This  is  the  place/'  he  mused.  "  I  know  ut ; 
here's  where  the  frindly  lam'post  hild  me  in  its 
arrums.  I  rimimber  there  was  a  dark  house  forninst 
me.  Here  's  where  ut  lay  on  the  sidewalk,  all  pink  an' 
pretty.  An'  I  kicked  ut  into  the  street !  Where  is  ut 
now  ?  Where  gone  ?  Howly  Mither  !  Here  's  the  spot 
where  ut  fell,  look  now  !  The  shape  of  uts  little  body 
and  the  wings  of  ut  in  the  snow.  But  't  is  gone  in- 
tirely  ! "  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and  crossed  himself 
again.  "  'T  is  flown  away,"  he  muttered.  "  'T  is  gone 
back  to  Hiven  to  tell  Mary  Mither  o'  the  wicked 
thing  I  done  this  night.  Oh,  't  is  a  miracle  that 's 
happened  !  An'  oh  !  The  wicked  man  I  am,  drunk 
and  disorderly  on  the  Howly  Eve  !  " 

"  O  come,  all  ye  faithful, 
Joyful  and  triumphant!  " 

Once  more  he  heard  the  familiar  strain  taken 
up  lustily  by  many  voices. 

"  Hear  all  the  world  singin'  on  the  way  to  Bethle- 
hem !  "  he  said,  and  the  stupor  seemed  to  leave  his 
brain.  He  no  longer  staggered. 

"  I  '11  run  an'  join  'em,  an'  I  won't  drink  an- 
other drop  this  night."  He  looked  up  at  the  starry 
sky.  "  Maybe  the  Angel  hears  me.  Maybe  he  '11  help 


THE   ANGEL   AGAIN  67 

me  to  keep  straight  to-morrow.  It  might  be  my 
Guardian  Angel  himsilf  that  I  treated  so!  Saints 
forgive  me ! " 

With  head  bowed  humbly,  but  no  longer  reeling, 
he  moved  away  towards  the  sound  of  music. 

"You  were  his  Guardian  Angel,"  said  Miss  Terry, 
when  once  more  she  saw  the  figure  on  the  mantel- 
shelf. And  she  spoke  with  reverent  gentleness. 

The  Angel  smiled  brightly.  "  The  Christmas  Spirit 
is  a  guardian  angel  to  many,"  he  said.  "Never  again 
despise  me,  Angelina.  Never  again  make  light  of 
my  influence." 

"  Never  again,"  murmured  Miss  Terry  half  un- 
consciously. "I  wish  it  were  not  too  late  —  " 

"  It  is  never  too  late,"  said  the  Christmas  Angel 
eagerly,  as  if  he  read  her  unspoken  thought.  "  Oh, 
never  too  late,  Angelina." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE    CHRISTMAS    CANDLE 

UDDENLY  there  was  a  sound,  —  a  dull 
reverberating  sound.  It  seemed  to  Miss 
Terry  to  come  from  neither  north, 
south,  east,  nor  west,  but  from  a  dilfer- 
Ah!  She  recognized  it  now.  It  was 
somebody  knocking  on  the  library  door. 

Miss  Terry  gave  a  long  sigh  and  drew  herself  up 
in  her  chair.  ^'It  must  be  Norah  just  come  back," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  I  had  forgotten  Norah  com- 
pletely. It  must  be  shockingly  late.  Come  in,"  she 
called,  as  she  glanced  at  the  clock. 

She  rubbed  her  eyes  and  looked  again.  A  few 
minutes  after  nine!  She  had  thought  it  must  be 
midnight ! 

Norah  entered  to  find  her  mistress  staring  at  the 
mantel  where  the  clock  stood.  She  saw  lying  beside 
the  clock  the  pink  Angel  which  had  fallen  from  the 
box  as  she  brought  it  in,  —  the  box  now  empty  by 
the  lire. 

"  Law,  Miss,"  she  said,  "  have  you  burned  them 


THE   CHRISTMAS   CANDLE  69 

all  up  but  him  ?  I  'm  glad  you  saved  him,  he  's  so 
pretty." 

''Norah/'  said  Miss  Terry  with  an  effort,  ^^is  that 
clock  right?  '* 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Norah.  ''I  set  it  this  morning.  I 
came  back  as  soon  as  I  could,  Miss,"  she  added 
apologetically. 

"It  is  n't  that,"  answered  Miss  Terry,  drawing  her 
hand  across  her  forehead  dazedly.  "  I  did  not  mind 
your  absence.  But  I  thought  it  must  be  later." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  would  n't  stay  out  any  later  when  you 
was  alone  here.  Miss,"  said  Norah  penitently.  "  I 
felt  ashamed  after  I  had  gone.  I  ought  not  to  have 
left  you  so,  —  on  Christmas  Eve.  But  oh.  Miss  !  The 
singing  was  so  beautiful,  and  the  houses  looked  so 
grand  with  the  candles  in  the  windows.  It  is  like  a 
holy  night  indeed  !  " 

Miss  Terry  stooped  and  picked  up  something 
from  the  floor.  It  was  the  bit  of  candle-end  which 
had  escaped  the  holocaust. 

"  Are  the  candles  still  lighted,  Norah  ?"  she  asked, 
eyeing  the  bit  of  wax  in  her  hand. 

"  Yes  'm,  some  of  them,"  answered  the  maid.  "  It 
is  getting  late,  and  a  good  many  have  burned  out. 
But  some  houses  are  still  as  bright  as  ever." 

"  Perhaps   it  is  not   too   late,  then,"    murmured 


70  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

Miss  Terry,  as  if  yielding  a  disputed  point.  "  Let  us 
hurry,  Norah." 

She  rose,  and  going  to  the  mantel-shelf  gently 
took  up  the  figure  of  the  Angel,  while  Norah  looked 
on  in  amazement. 

"Norah,"  said  Miss  Terry,  with  an  eagerness  which 
made  her  voice  tremble,  "I  want  you  to  hang  the 
Christmas  Angel  in  the  window  there.  I  too  have  a 
fancy  to  burn  a  candle  to-night.  If  it  is  not  too 
late  I  'd  like  to  have  a  little  share  in  the  Christmas 
spirit." 

Norah's  eyes  lighted.  '^Oh,  yes'm,"  she  said.  "I  '11 
hang  it  right  away.  And  I  '11  find  an  empty  spool  to 
hold  the  candle." 

She  bustled  briskly  about,  and  presently  in  the 
window  appeared  a  little  device  unlike  any  other  in 
the  block.  Against  the  darkness  within,  the  figure  of 
the  Angel  with  arms  outstretched  towards  the  street 
shone  in  a  soft  light  from  the  flame  of  a  single  tiny 
candle  such  as  blossom  on  Christmas  trees. 

It  caught  the  attention  of  many  home-goers, 
who  said,  smiling,  "How  simple!  How  pretty!  How 
quaint!  It  is  a  type  of  the  Christmas  spirit  which  is 
abroad  to-night.  You  can  feel  it  everywhere,  blessing 
the  city." 

For  some  minutes  before  the  candle  was  lighted,  a 


THE   CHRISTMAS   CANDLE  71 

man  muffled  in  a  heavy  overcoat  had  been  standing 
in  a  doorway  opposite  Miss  Terry's  house.  He  was 
tall  and  grizzled  and  his  face  was  sad.  He  stared  up 
at  the  gloomy  window^s,  the  only  oblongs  of  black- 
ness in  the  illuminated  block,  and  he  shivered,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders. 

"  The  same  as  ever ! "  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  might 
have  known  she  would  never  change.  Any  one  else, 
on  Christmas  Eve,  after  the  letter  I  wrote  her,  would 
have  softened  a  little.  But  I  might  have  known.  She 
is  hard  as  nails !  Of  course,  it  was  my  fault  in  the 
first  place  to  leave  her  as  I  did.  But  when  I  ac- 
knowledged it,  and  when  I  wrote  that  letter  on 
Christmas  Eve,  I  thought  Angelina  might  feel  dif- 
ferently." He  looked  at  his  watch.  "Nearly  half -past 
nine,"  he  muttered.  "I  may  as  well  go  home.  She 
said  she  wanted  to  be  let  alone ;  that  Christmas  meant 
nothing  to  her.  I  don't  dare  to  call,  —  on  my  only 
sister!  I  suppose  she  is  there  all  alone,  and  here  I 
am  all  alone,  too.  What  a  pity !  If  I  saw  the  least 
sign  — 

Just  then  there  was  the  spark  of  a  match  against 
the  darkness  framed  in  by  the  windoAv  opposite.  A 
hand  and  arm  shone  in  the  flicker  of  light  across 
the  upper  sash.  A  tiny  spark,  tremulous  at  first,  like 
a  bird  alighting  on  a  frail  branch,  paused,  steadied, 


72  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

and  became  fixed.  In  the  light  of  a  small  taper  the 
man  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  pale,  long  face  in  a  frame 
of  silver  hair.  It  faded  into  the  background.  But 
above  the  candle  he  now  saw,  with  arms  outstretched 
as  it  seemed  toward  himself,  a  pink  little  angel  with 
gauzy  wings. 

The  man's  heart  gave  a  leap.  Sudden  memories 
thronged  his  brain,  making  him  almost  dizzy.  At 
last  they  formulated  into  one  smothered  cry.  "  The 
Christmas  Angel  !  It  is  the  very  same  pink  Angel 
that  Angelina  and  I  used  to  hang  on  our  Christmas 
tree  I" 

In  three  great  leaps,  like  a  schoolboy,  he  crossed 
the  street  and  ran  up  the  steps  of  Number  87.  The 
Christmas  Angel  seemed  to  smile  with  ineffable  sweet- 
ness as  he  gave  the  bell  a  vigorous  pull. 


CHAPTER   XIV 


TOM 


[ISS  TERRY  was  leaning  on  the  mantel- 
shelf looking  into  the  fire,  when  the 
bell  pealed  furiously.  She  started  and 
turned  pale. 
Lord  'a'  mercy  !  "  ejaculated  Norah,  who  was 
still  admiring  the  effect  of  the  window-decoration. 
"What's  that?  Who  can  be  calling  here  to-night, 
making  such  a  noise?" 

"Go  to  the  door,  Norah,"  said  Miss  Terry  with  a 
strange  note  in  her  voice.  "  It  jnay  be  some  one  to 
see  me.    It  is  not  too  late." 

"  Yes  'm,"  said  Norah,  obedient  but  bewildered. 
Presently  the  library  door  opened  and  a  figure 
strode  in  ;  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man  in  a  fur 
overcoat.  For  a  moment  he  stood  just  inside  the 
door,  hesitating.  Miss  Terry  took  two  steps  forward 
from  the  fire-place. 

"Tom!"  she  said  faintly.  "You  came, — after 
all!" 

"After  all,  Angelina,"  he  said.  "  Yes,  because  I 


74  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

saw  tliaty^  he  waved  his  hand  toward  the  window. 
"  That  gave  me  courage  to  come  in.  It  is  our  Christ- 
mas Angel.  I  remember  all  about  it.  Does  it  mean 
anything,  Angelina?" 

Miss  Terry  held  out  a  moment  longer.  Then  she 
faltered  forward.  "  0  Tom  !  "  she  sobbed,  as  she  felt 
his  brotherly,  strong  arms  about  her.  "  0  Tom  ! 
And  so  he  has  brought  you  back  to  me,  and  me  to 

you!" 

"  He  ?  Angelina  girl,  who  ?  "  He  smoothed  her 
silver  hair  with  rough,  kind  fingers. 

"  Why,  the  Christmas  Angel ;  our  Guardian 
Angel,  Tom.  All  these  years  I  kept  him  in  the 
play  box,  and  I  was  going  to  burn  him  up.  But  I 
could  n't  do  it,  Tom.  How  wonderful  it  is  !  " 

They  sat  down  before  the  fire  and  she  began  to  tell 
him  the  whole  story.  But  she  interrupted  herself  to 
send  for  Norah,  who  came  to  her,  mystified  and 
half  scandalized  by  the  greeting  which  she  had  seen 
those  two  oldsters  exchange. 

"  This  is  my  brother  Tom,  Norah,  who  has  come 
back,"  she  said.  "  I  believe  it  is  not  too  late  to  make 
some  preparation  for  Christmas  Day.  The  stores 
will  still  be  open.  Run  out  and  order  things  for  a 
grand  occasion,  Norah.  And  —  0  Norah  !  "  a  sudden 
remembrance  came  to  her.   "  If  you  have  time,  will 


TOM  76 

you  please  get  some  toys  and  pretty  things  such  as 
a  little  girl  would  like ;  a  little  girl  of  about  ten,  with 
my  complexion,  —  I  mean,  with  yellow  hair  and  blue 
eyes.   We  may  have  a  little  guest  to-morrow." 

"Yes  'm,'*  said  Norah,  moving  like  one  in  a  dream. 

"A  guest?"  exclaimed  Tom.  And  Miss  Terry 
told  him  about  Mary. 

"  I  love  little  girls,"  said  Tom,  "  especially  little 
girls  with  yellow  hair  and  blue  eyes,  such  as  you 
used  to  have,  Angelina." 

"  You  will  like  Mary,  then,"  said  Miss  Terry,  with 
a  pretty  pink  flush  o£  pleasure  in  her  cheeks. 

"  I  shall  like  her,  if  she  comes,"  amended  Tom, 
who,  man-like,  received  with  reservations  the  account 
of  a  vision  vouchsafed  not  unto  him. 

"  She  will  come,"  said  Miss  Terry  with  her  old 
positiveness,  glancing  towards  the  window  where  the 
Christmas  Angel  hung. 

Then  arose  the  sound  of  singing  outside  the  house. 
The  passing  choristers  had  spied  the  quaint  window, 
now  the  only  one  in  the  street  which  remained 
lighted :  — 

"  When  Christ  was  born  of  Mary  free, 
In  Bethlehem,  in  that  fair  citye, 
Angels  sang  with  mirth  and  glee, 
In  Excelsis  Gloria  !  " 


CHAPTER   XV 

CHRISTMAS    DAY 

ND  Mary  came.  The  brother  and  sister 
were  at  breakfast,  —  the  happiest  which 
either  of  them  had  known  for  years,  — 
when  there  came  a  timid  pull  at  the 
front-door  bell.  Miss  Angelina  laid  down  her  knife 
and  fork  and  looked  across  the  table  at  Tom. 

"  She  has  come.  Mary  has  come,"  she  said. 
"  Norah,  if  it  is  a  little  girl  with  a  package  under 
her  arm,  bring  her  in  here." 

"  Yes  'm  !  "  gasped  Norah,  who  believed  she  was 
living  in  a  dream  where  everything  was  topsy-turvy. 
When  had  a  child  entered  Miss  Terry's  dining- 
room! 

Norah  disappeared  and  presently  returned  usher- 
ing in  a  little  girl  of  ten,  with  blue  eyes  and  yellow 
hair.  Under  her  arm  she  carried  a  white-paper  pack- 
age, very  badly  wrapped. 

Miss  Terry  exchanged  with  her  brotlier  a  glance 
which  said,  "I  told  you  so  ! " 

The  child  seemed  bashful  and  afraid  to  speak  ;  no 
wonder! 


CHRISTMAS   DAY  77 

Tom's  kind  heart  yearned  to  her.  "  Good  morn- 
ing !  Wish  you  a  merry  Christmas,  Mary  !  "  he  said 
smiling. 

The  child  gave  a  start.  "  Why,  how  did  you  know 
my  name  ?  "  she  cried. 

Tom  looked  confused.  How  indeed  did  he  know? 
But  Miss  Angelina,  with  a  readiness  that  surprised 
herself,  came  to  his  rescue. 

"  We  were  talking  of  a  little  girl  named  Mary," 
she  said.  "  And  you  look  just  like  her.  What  did 
you  come  for,  dear  ?  " 

The  little  girl  hung  her  head  and  turned  crim- 
son. 

"I  —  I  came  to  see  Angelina  Terry,"  she  whis- 
pered. "I  —  I  've  got  a  doll  that  belongs  to  her." 

There  was  a  pause,  then  Miss  Terry  said,  "  Well, 
go  on." 

"I  —  I  found  her  on  the  steps  of  this  house  last 
night,  and  I  ought  to  have  brought  her  right  here 
then.  But  I  didn't.  I  took  her  home.  I  hope  Ange- 
lina was  not  very  unhappy  last  night." 

Miss  Terry  smiled  upon  Tom,  who  gave  a  kind, 
low  laugh. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Terry.  ''  Angelina  did  not  worry 
about  her  lost  doll.  She  was  thinking  about  some- 
thing else,  —  the  nicest  Christmas  present  that  ever 


78  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

anybody  had.  But  you  were  a  good  girl  to  bring 
back  the  dolL" 

"No,  I  'm  not  a  good  girl,"  said  Mary,  and  her 
voice  trembled.  "  I  was  a  wicked  girl.  I  meant  to 
keep  Miranda  for  myself,  because  I  thought  she 
would  be  a  lovely  big  doll.  And  when  I  found  she 
was  old  and  homely,  somehow  I  still  wanted  to  keep 
her.  But  it  was  stealing,  and  I  could  n't.  Please,  will 
you  give  her  to  Angelina,  and  tell  her  I  am  so 
sorry  ?  "  She  took  Miranda  out  of  the  wrapping  and 
held  her  toward  Miss  Terry  without  looking  at  the 
doll.  It  was  as  if  she  were  afraid  of  being  tempted 
once  more. 

Miss  Terry  did  not  take  the  doll. 

"  I  am  Angelina,"  she  said.  "  The  doll  was  mine." 

"  You !  Angelina ! "  the  child's  face  was  full  of 
bewilderment.  Mechanically  she  drew  Miranda  to 
her  and  clasped  her  close. 

"  Yes,  I  am  Angelina,  and  that  was  my  doll  Mi- 
randa," said  Miss  Terry  gently.  "  Thank  you  for 
returning  her.  But  Mary,  —  your  name  is  Mary?" 
The  child  nodded.  —  "Suppose  I  wanted  you  to  keep 
her  for  me,  what  w^ould  you  say  ?  " 

Mary's  eyes  still  dwelt  upon  Miss  Terry  with  a 
puzzled  look.  This  gray-haired  Angelina  was  so 
different  from  the  one  she  had  pictured.  She  did 


MARY  RETURNS  THE  DOLL 


CHRISTMAS    DAY  79 

not  answer  the  question.  Miss  Terry  drew  the  child 
to  a  chair  beside  her. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  yourself,  Mary,"  she  said. 

After  some  coaxing  and  prompting  from  what  they 
already  guessed,  Mary  told  the  story  of  her  sad  little 
life. 

She  was  an  orphan  recently  left  to  the  care  of 
her  uncle  and  aunt,  who  had  received  her  grudg- 
ingly. They  were  her  sole  relatives,  and  the  shame 
of  their  degraded  lives  was  plain  through  the  out- 
lines of  the  vague  picture  which  Mary  sketched  of 
them. 

"You  do  not  love  them,  Mary?"  asked  Miss 
Terry  kindly. 

"No,"  answered  the  child.  "They  always  speak 
crossly  to  me.  When  they  have  been  drinking  they 
beat  me." 

Tom  rose  from  the  table  with  a  muttered  word 
and  began  to  pace  the  floor.  His  blue  eyes  were 
full  of  tears. 

"Mary,"  said  Miss  Terry,  "will  the  people  at 
home  be  worried  if  you  do  not  come  back  to  din- 
ner  .'^ 

Mary  shook  her  head  wonderingly.  "  No,"  she 
said.  "  They  will  not  care.  I  am  often  away  on  holi- 
days. I  go  to  the  Museums." 


80  THE   CHRISTMAS    ANGEL 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  stay  with  us  to-day,"  said 
Miss  Terry.  "We  are  going  to  have  a  Christmas 
celebration,  and  we  need  you  for  a  guest.  Will  you 
stay,  you  and  Miranda?" 

Mary  looked  down  at  the  doll  in  her  arms,  and 
up  at  the  two  kind  faces  bent  toward  her.  "Yes," 
she  said  impulsively,  "  I  Avill  stay.  How  good  you 
are!  I  don't  want  to  go  home." 

"Don't  go  home! "burst  out  Tom.  "Stay  with 
us  always  and  be  our  little  girl." 

Mary  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  half  fright- 
ened at  the  new  idea.  Miss  Terry  bent  and  pecked 
at  her  cheek,  with  a  thrill  at  the  new  sensation. 

"  Yes,  we  mean  it,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was 
almost  sweet.  "  We  believe  that  the  Christmas  An- 
gel has  brought  you  to  us,  Mary.  You  have  the 
Christmas  name.  But  you  seem  to  us  like  the  little 
girl  we  both  knew  best,  little  Angelina  with  blue 
eyes  and  yellow  hair,  who  was  Miranda's  mother. 
Will  you  stay  with  us,  Mary  Angelina  ?  Would  you 
like  to  stay  ?  " 

Mary  looked  up  with  a  wistful  smile.  "  You  are  so 
good  !  "  she  said  again.  "  I  wish  I  could  stay.  But 
Uncle  and  Aunt  are  so — I  am  afraid  of  what  they 
might  do  to  us  all.  If  they  thought  you  wanted  me, 
they  would  not  let  me  go." 


CHRISTMAS   DAY  81 

^^  I  will  fix  Uncle  and  Aunt,"  said  Tom,  going  for 
his  coat.  "  Leave  them  to  me.  I  know  an  argu- 
ment that  settles  uncles  and  aunts  of  that  sort. 
You  need  not  go  back  to  their  house,  I  promise  you, 
Mary,  my  dear." 

Mary  gave  a  great  sigh  of  relief.  "  Oh,  I  am  so 
glad  !  "  she  said.  "It  was  such  a  wicked  house.  And 
here  it  is  so  good  !  " 

"  Good ! "  Miss  Terry  echoed  the  word  with  a 
sigh.  "  Come  with  me,  Mary,"  she  said. 

She  led  her  little  guest  through  the  hall  to  the 
library,  where  a  great  fire  was  blazing,  with  sundry 
mysterious  packages  in  white  paper  piled  on  the 
table  beside  it.  But  Miss  Terry  did  not  stop  at  the 
fire-place.  She  drew  Mary  to  the  window  which 
looked  out  on  the  sidewalk.  Above  the  lower  sash 
Mary  saw  the  remains  of  a  burned-out  Christmas  can- 
dle; and  over  it  hung  a  pink  papier-mache  Angel 
stretching  out  open  arms  towards  her. 

"  This  is  the  Christmas  Angel,  Mary,"  said  Miss 
Terry.  "  He  is  as  old  as  Miranda  —  " 

"  He  is  as  old  as  Christmas,"  interrupted  Tom, 
looking  in  from  the  hall. 

"  When  we  were  children,  Tom  and  I,  we  hung 
him  on  our  Christmas  tree,"  went  on  Miss  Terry. 
"  We  think  he  brought  you  to  us.    We  believe  he 


82  THE   CHRISTMAS   ANGEL 

has  changed  the  world  for  us,  —  has  brought  us 
peace,  good-will,  and  happiness.  He  is  going  to  be 
the  guardian  angel  of  our  house.  You  must  love 
him,  Mary." 

"How  beautiful  he  is!"  said  Mary  reverently. 
"  His  face  shines  like  the  Baby's  that  I  saw  once  in 
the  Church.  Oh,  Miss  Angelina  !  He  is  like  the 
Christ-Child  himself ! " 

"  Call  me  Aunt  AngeHna,"  said  Miss  Terry  with 
a  quick  breath. 

"  Aunt  Angelina,"  cried  the  child,  throwing  her 
arms  about  Miss  Terry's  neck. 

Tom  came  and  put  his  great  furry  coat-sleeves 
about  them  both.  "And  Uncle  Tom,"  he  said. 

"  Dear  Uncle  Tom  !  "  whispered  the  child  shyly. 

There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  all  three. 

"  Now  we  shall  live  happy  ever  after,"  said  Tom. 

And  the  Christmas  Angel  beamed  upon  them. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .    A 


7  DAY  USE 

RETXJRN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


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